TIME OF THE HEART
by C.J. Davis
Summary: A young woman finds herself out of time. AU.In my world the knights didn't die. Call it denial.Also, this takes place a few months after the movie ends.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: None of the recognizable characters from the movie or legend are mine. I make no money from this.

Time of the Heart

Delaney McAllister stumbled wearily through the trees, teeth chattering and muscles cramping.

Blood trickled and blocked her vision. Quickly she wiped it away with a corner of her cotton button down shirt. She leaned against a tree, gasping for air looking wildly around.

"I should be up to the highway by now." She muttered to herself.

She remembered the mountain road being slick with water and then swerving to avoid hitting an oncoming car. She remembered her stomach dropping as she spun through the guardrail and her car tumbled down the mountain side. Then she came to and it was dark and she was no longer in the car. Her purse was a few feet away from her and she was lying in a puddle of water with drizzle falling on her.

"Must be a freak spring storm." She said softly as she placed her hands underneath her armpits and walked some more. Her feet were cold and her legs throbbed. And she didn't know how far or how long she had been walking.

Laney fought the urge to just lie down and rest. Her vision would swim every once in awhile and she would pause by a tree until it righted itself. It was during one such moment that she swore she saw light up ahead. With a shrug of her shoulders she headed for it praying she wasn't hallucinating.

She eventually found herself nearing a small encampment. There were horses tied off to the side and a group of men were sitting around a fire. She was far enough away all she could see were black figures.

"Hail the fire!" Laney called, her voice hoarse. She cleared her throat again, "Hail the fire!" She said more clearly.

Laney had never been camping in her life, but she remembered her grandfather always said 'Hail the fire' when they would roast marshmallows outside in their backyard. All eyes were suddenly on her as the figures rose. Laney stopped, her vision swaying again, her hands held up to show she meant no harm. And then just as suddenly everything went black.

Dagonet went to the woman immediately, picking her up gently and carrying her close to the fire. Lancelot smoothed out his cloak for her and Arthur grabbed extra blankets from the others. The woman was dressed strangely, worn pants with the beginnings of holes in the knees were barely touching the cuffs of her leather boots. She had on what looked to be an over shirt with a shirt underneath and her hair was in disarray. There was a cut from her eyebrow to her hair line and her eyes were puffy and bruised. Her lip was swollen and split and there was an angry bruise along the bottom of her jaw.

All of them looked from her then to each other, she obviously was hurt and needed help.

Arthur looked to Dagonet. "Does she have a concussion?"

"Yes." He then ran his hands along the ribs, while listening to her breathing. "I feel a couple of cracked ribs, but her breathing is fine. They just need to be wrapped." He ran his hands along the legs and ankles then her arms.

"I can't detect any other breaks but look at this." He held up her hands for inspection. The wrists had bands of bruises upon them.

"Who do you think did this?" Arthur asked, staring at the mystery woman.

Lancelot was riffling through her bag and found a picture on a card. He rubbed his finger across it several times flipping it over and then back over again.

"Arthur, she's not from here."

"I gathered that by the manner of dress."

"No, Arthur, look." Lancelot gave him the bag and the card with a picture on it. "I don't think she's from our time." He said in a harsh whisper.

"Either way, we need to take care of the girl. We can't leave her out here like this."

"Remember what happened last time you rescued a damsel in distress Arthur. I do not believe Guinevere would be very happy if you brought home another woman."

"No, Lancelot, this time it's your turn."

"Pfft." They turned back to the girl. Dagonet had rolled her shirt up to below her breasts, her rib cage was riddled with dark red blotches. Lancelot helped lift her up as Dagonet wrapped a piece of linen tightly around her. He then gently laid her down again on the make shift pillow beneath her head.

Hoof beats brought his attention toward the rider that was just sliding off from a horse.

"And?" He asked raising an eyebrow.

"I followed her foot prints all the way back to a creek. I found where she was laying but no sign of whence she came. Of course, it could have been before the snow started."

"Such a mystery," Galahad murmured.

"Getting ideas already Galahad?" Gawain asked.

"You had better not be or I'll tell Kensey." Galahad shot back.

Laney heard voices in the distance. She tried to turn over and moaned as a fresh wave of pain ebbed through her. Suddenly the voices stopped. She opened her eyes and found 7 men peering down at her. She again tried sitting up and this time the man closet to her, a giant of a man helped her to a sitting position. He towered above her and he was sitting. He smiled kindly and the fire reflected a warmth to his gaze that made her feel at ease.

"I'm afraid I'm not myself."

"You are hurt, My Lady. You need rest. My name is Dagonet. your ribs are

cracked I did not find any other breaks just bruises."

"That sounds about right."

"Who did this to you, My Lady?" Another man was suddenly kneeling in front of her, his shoulders straight his dark hair barely grazing the collar of the shirt he wore underneath the metal of his armor. She felt her eyes grow wide, there emblazoned in the center was a gold dragon on a black back ground.

"My Lady?"

Laney quickly looked up at the man, his strong jaw scruffy with the beginnings of a beard. "I-I'm sorry, sir. I am trying to get my bearings."

"My name is Arthur Castus, My Lady. You have no need to call me sir."

"Arthur Castus?" Laney mulled over the name in her mind. She knew the name. Any scholar of Arthurian Legend worth their salt knew that name. However, her mind couldn't process how she had come to be in the time of Arthur. "My name is Delaney McAllister." She moved herself to a more upright position and winced when she brushed her hip against the tree trunk.

"You need rest, Delaney." A knight she hadn't noticed commented, his dark curly hair wet from the drizzle creating ringlets that fell between his eyes. "I am Lancelot."

Delaney barely gave a nod of her head. This had to be a dream. She hit her head even harder than she thought and she was dreaming. She smiled weakly, "No argument there. May I have some water?" A skin was quickly passed to her from another large man; not quite as large as Dagonet, "Thank you." She took a small sip, savoring the wetness then swallowed.

"You look like someone used you for a punching bag, girl." The man commented as he took the water skin.

Delaney smirked. "I feel like someone used me for a punching bag. So nice to know I look as bad as I feel isn't it?"

The man smirked. "I be Bors."

"Nice to meet you Bors." They went about their business leaving her to doze off and on. She sensed someone close to her and turned in the direction she thought he was. She winced as she did so.

"It's only me."

"Me who?" Laney asked, craning her neck to find the face to go with the raspy voice. A man with longish hair with braids spattered through out stepped from the shadows and into the moonlight. "Do you have a name?"

"Tristan."

He gave the impression that he wasn't the type for idle chit chat so she sat in silence. She slept in spurts waking up when she would try and shift and the pain would shoot through her.

"Do you know where my bag is?" She asked the stoic man next to her when she could take the pain no longer.

"Yes."

"Could you get it for me? Or tell me where it is and I'll get it?"

"Yes." With that he left then came back moments later with her purse.

"Thank you." She gently took her purse from him and then rifled through it. Ahh yes, her bottle of ibuprofen was still there. She undid the lid and quickly popped two pills, swallowing them gratefully. She noticed Tristan was watching her intently. "It's medicine to help with the pain and swelling." She handed him the bottle, which he took from her and began inspecting thoroughly.

Tristan was having problems with the child proof cap. Laney couldn't help but smile at him. "Press it down then turn."

He smirked when he got it open. He then took out one of the pills and looked at it just as intensely as he had the bottle. After a moment he put the pill back in the bottle, capped it and handed it back to her.

Laney then deposited it back into her purse and pulling the blankets about her drifted off to sleep


	2. Knights, Snakes, Oh my!

"M'Lady." She felt someone gently shaking her arm.

"M'Lady?"

Another gentle tug. She opened one eye and peered directly into a pair of blue eyes. "We need to get going."

Delaney stretched and immediately winced. "Oh that wasn't such a smart idea." She grasped the hand the dark blonde haired man held out to her. Taking a deep breath she got up. "I'll be ready as soon as I go refresh myself." She stiffly walked away from the knights and towards a group of trees.

She was just tucking in her shirt when she felt movement over the toe of her shoe. Instinctively she let out a scream. The snake turned and looked at her. She stood holding her breath frozen in place. The slender grayish snake continued to stare at her.

Tristan was suddenly next to her and she pointed down at the snake. He then chuckled.

"What is so damn funny! Get that THING away from me!" To this, the man reached down and picked up the foot long horror and began to let it crawl from one hand to the other.

"It's harmless. See." He held it out to her which caused her to take a step back. With a sigh he kneeled down and let it scurry away. "It's not a snake, it's a lizard. Lack of a forked tongue is how you tell the difference."

"If you think I am going to get close enough to find out if it had a forked tongue or not you are DAFT!"

"There, all gone." He started walking in the direction of the knights.

Delaney quickly finished tucking in her shirt and buttoning her jeans. She hurried quickly after Tristan's retreating back disregarding her aches and pains. The medicine had helped. When she got to the small campsite everything had been packed up and most of the men were upon their horses. There were two horses that didn't have a passenger, one a tall black stallion who was neighing impatiently. The other was a black a couple hands smaller than the other with a trail of white between its eyes. It stood stock still as if it were right where it wanted to be.

"I will help you up onto Lancelot's horse," Dagonet remarked as she got closer.

"Excuse me?" She stood, with hands on her hips staring up at the arrogant creature with the equally arrogant knight atop it.

"I have the bigger horse with less weight. If you ride with Dag you may hurt his horse because it's smaller and is already carrying him." Lancelot explained a touch impatiently. She had a slight pinched expression which made him grin, wanting to push just enough to get her annoyed, but not enough to piss her off.

"You don't understand. I don't know a thing about riding. The couple of times I've been on a horse, I've fallen off."

"You don't have to know anything about riding, you'll just be in front of me."

"Oh yeah right. So I can just fall over the horses head."

"I'll hold on."

Delaney stared at the smug man and rolled her eyes. "Fine." Lancelot soothed his horse while Dagonet picked her up, his hands on her hips causing the least amount of pain as possible and set her atop the horse as if she were nothing more than a rag doll. Once she was settled, Lancelot immediately snaked his arm around her waist and they were off at a trot to catch up with the others. Delaney sat board straight and clenched her thighs against the horse trying to keep herself from falling back against Lancelot.

"I don't bite."

"Let me guess, unless asked?"She smirked, cocking an eyebrow as she turned and glanced at him.

He chuckled. "Perhaps. If you don't relax you are going to be more sore than you already and are and you'll give my horse a complex."

"If I relax I'll end up leaning against you."

"You make this sound as if it is unpleasant."

"It just might be." She retorted, her body rebelling against the stiff stance. Suddenly the horse broke into a dead run and she was forced back against the knight with a loud 'oooft'. Just as suddenly the horse slowed down and she was still held securely against the armor plating.

"See, not so bad now is it?" His accent lilted into her ear. She took a deep breath and wished she hadn't. He smelled. It was a mixture of earth, sweat and the smell of the trees and rain but mostly sweat. She started coughing. He let go a bit. It was enough for her to get away from the worst of it.

"You've been on the road awhile." She remarked, wrinkling her nose.

"A week. We've been escorting Roman caravans down south to meet the ships that will take them back to Rome." He looked down at her, "Why do you ask?"

"Let us just say, that I know I have no room to talk, however, I've only been without a bath for a day or two, you have been without one for quite sometime."

"Are you saying I smell?" He asked smirking.

"You could say that."

Lancelot leaned forward and inhaled deeply, "So do you, very nice I might add." He inhaled deeply again, "I detect the smells of the forest and of the earth. Reminds me of home."

"Where is home?"

"It was Sarmatia. However, I've learned that this is turning into my home."

"This?"

"Britain."

"I see." He sounded as if he didn't want to talk about it and frankly, she wasn't in the mood for listening. They rode in a comfortable silence. The horses gait; even though it jostled the broken ribs a bit was relaxing. She found herself drifting off. Feeling safe against the armor of the knight.

Lancelot looked down at her in his arms, eye's closed, snoring softly. Her face was just turning deep purple from her bruises and the cut above her eye resembled a jagged edge, while her lip though cut still held a perfect pout. He wondered what had happened to the woman. She was small, but not petite. Her nails were ragged and she had those perfect circular scars about her wrists. Her manner of dress although not much different than their's, was also puzzling. The materials of her clothes were unique. Her boots, though practical only came up to her ankles

with thick rubber soles. He glanced back again to the tunic that she wore as a jacket of sorts. The color was of the likes he'd never seen; it was a blue bordering a green. He wondered what she used to dye it. He would very much like a tunic of that color. She attempted to shift and then she was awake, her eyes staring back into his. Their dark blue depths reminding him of a storm upon the ocean.

"Sleep well?" He asked with a smile.

"Uh yeah." Delaney tried to sit up as best she could with his strong arm pressing her against him. Her body ached in places she hadn't ached before. "Sorry for using you as a headrest."

"I'm not."

She smirked, shaking her head, "Where are we?"

"Going towards the wall."

"The wall?"

"Hadrian's wall."

"Hadrian's wall? Oh my God." Delaney felt the scholar in her perk up. "Are we almost there? How long has it been standing?" She gushed without thought.

"We shall be there tomorrow and it's been standing a few years now." Lancelot regarded her; puzzled.

"The Hadrian's wall. I can't wait!" She felt her fingers tingle at the thought of seeing it in it's hay day; touching the mortar and the stones before it became a symbol of ancient Rome. "Hold on, we're camping again?" She felt dread creep in. She considered roughing it staying in a hotel without a swimming pool. Outside, under the stars without a tent, Hell even WITH a tent was something she did NOT do.

"Yes."

"Great." She commented with a sigh.

"Do you have a problem with that?" He asked, eyebrows raising.

"Even if I did there isn't much that can be done now is there? I'll deal with it." Lancelot answered her with a grin and they sat in silence once again.

"Is he giving you problems M'Lady?" Gawain asked as he rode up beside Lancelot's horse.

"No he's been a perfect gentleman."

Gawain eyed Lancelot with a smirk, "Are you feeling ill? You haven't tried wooing her yet? Have you lost your touch Lancelot?"

"I like my women healthy. When she's healed I'll start wooing her, until then I'll be the perfect gentleman."

"You can try, Lancelot." Delaney spoke as she met Gawain's smirk with one of her own.

"But, Lady Delaney, you have never been with me." Lancelot said with a flourish.

"Oh please, get over yourself the rest of us have." Delaney commented. Gawain rode on, chuckling to himself.

Later on, Dagonet came by and announced that they were stopping for lunch.

Once Lancelot had his horse tied up he reached to help Delaney down. She smiled and slid past his outstretched arms to stand next to him. Standing stiffly she commented, "Once I can feel my ass and legs again I'll go sit on the log over there and see if I can be helpful."

"I told you not to be so tense." Lancelot chided as she attempted to stretch the numb muscles.

"Yes, and you also told me you were going to make a pass for me and gave me no choice but to lean against you." She stabbed him in the chest with her finger.

"Yes, and you also fell asleep and seemed perfectly content to lie dreaming in my arms." He grinned, as he grabbed her finger and stopped her from stabbing him again.

"I'm exhausted, I'd have felt perfectly content lying in a mud puddle as long as I could sleep." Laney replied hotly.

"I'm no better than a mud puddle?" He looked like a puppy who'd just had his bone taken away.

"You took it that way, not me." With that she left.

Lancelot watched her walk stiffly over to where Galahad was unloading some supplies.

Arthur walked up to the dark haired knight, "How is she?"

"She hasn't really said. Actually she said that she can't feel her ass or legs, but other than that she hasn't complained. She winces every once in awhile but that's the only sign I have seen that she is in any pain."

"She hasn't said anything about how she got here?"

"Nothing."

"Give her time."

"I believe she has nothing but time."

Delaney was looking at some blossoms from a bush beside one of the gnarled trees when Tristan materialized out of them. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"No mind. What are you doing?"

"Trying to figure out what these blossoms are."

"Saskatoon berries. Or June berries as we call them. The berries have a hint of an apple flavor."

"The blossoms are beautiful."

"The berries are a dark red or purple in color."

"We have these in-- where I'm from."

"Where are you from?"

"A long way away." She muttered. "I'd best be going back to see if I can be of any use. Which I doubt." With that she quickly turned away and went back to their makeshift camp. Tristan watched her saunter off, her head down, watching the plants at her feet; muttering to herself.


	3. The Journey Continues

As usual, the typical disclaimers apply. I don't own them, wish I did. I own Delaney, and sometimes that's enough.

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Mandamirra10– You will just have to read and find out who she ends up with. Thanks for the

Wonderful compliments.

Cardeia–Hope you like the observations. You have no idea how thoughts inspire! You will learn what the circular marks are later. I hope I covered all of your questions!

KnightMaiden–Here is your update! Hope you like. Thanks for the review!

They had given her some jerked venison and some hard bread. She nibbled at it while she walked around, investigating the vegitation. Delaney wasn't purposely avoiding them, she was trying to stay away to avoid questions. She had watched Star Trek enough to know about how time travel affected the space time continuim or something like that. She had observed them silently.

Dagonet was a true gentle giant. He talked softly and carried a big axe, but he had a tenderness about him, whether it was talking with his horse or stopping a confrontation between Gawain and Galahad. Bors, for as much bolstering as he did, was a huge teddy bear. When people weren't looking he and Dagonet would discuss the future and his children. Gawain reminded her of a human version of the lion of the Wizard of Oz. He'd fight when he had to, but other than that,he kept to his horse and talked to Galahad. Galahad on the other hand. He was young. That was the only way to describe him. He didn't necessarily like where he was at, but there was no where else for him to go. He reminded her of how she had felt in highschool; wanting to break out of the small town she had grown up in; only to find that she had no clue about the world in general. Lancelot, she smirked. He was smart. That much she could tell. He also had given her many nice fantasies to pass the time with. In reality, as witty and funny and smart as he was. He was a pretty boy, and pretty boys didn't have time for plain jane's like her. Tristan, she sighed. Tall, dark, and silent. He was her shadow and comforting. He didn't talk much, for that she was grateful. He never asked any questions about her. He would silently observe. She could relate to that. She much prefered being the one to do the watching, than the center of attention. Last, but not least was Arthur. Alone, even when he was surrounded by his knights. She noticed he and Lancelot would talk, but even then she sensed a deep lonliness in the man. These were his men to command.

She came upon an old knarled oak tree and looked up, grinning. Quickly she finished off the bread and meat and then after dusting her hands off upon her jeans she jumped up and grabbed for the lowest knarled branch. She couldn't quite reach it. Sometimes she hated being of average height. She walked away a bit then tried for a running start; it ended up being a slow lope. "Well damn it all." She muttered in aggrivation, the tree was too wide around for her to take off her shirt and use it as a counter weight to get up the tree. There she stood, hands on her hips looking up at the branch, nibbling her bottom lip as she contemplated what to do when she felt hands about her waist. The next thing she knew she was being lifted and she quickly wrapped her hands around the thick branch and scaled the trunk of the tree, lifting herself up and over. She settled and found herself staring down at Dagonet's smiling face. He reached for the low branch and lifted himself up with ease; settling down next to her. "You must be feeling better." He observed.

"I'm sore, but I shall live."

"Are you okay?"

The corners of her mouth turned up into a soft smile, "A bit overwhelmed. but honestly, I'm fine."

"You seem very quiet."

"I don't have a lot to say."

"I think you have very much to say."

"Why do you think that?" She asked, glancing sideways at the gentle giant.

"You have broken ribs, a very mild concussion, a battered face and bruised ribs yet you do not speak of how you got these injuries. Instead, you ask if you can help prepare food for a meal. When we tell you that all is fine you wander off. This to me means that you rather be left alone so as to not have to answer any questions.

"I'm sorry. I do not mean to be rude."

"We do not mind. We know when you are ready we will know what you know."

"What if I never tell you?"

"Again I tell you, I do not mind and I doubt the rest do either. It is nice to have a pretty lady to accompany us. Yet, eventually we will ask questions." He hopped down and then turned and reached for her, "Come, we're leaving once again."

Once she was settled upon the ground she looked up at him, "I'll be there shortly, nature calls." At that he quirked an eyebrow and then she said, "I need to refresh myself." He merely nodded and walked toward the horses while she walked toward some secluded trees. When she walked by Tristan he muttered, "Watch out for snakes." To which she replied, "You'll be the last to know."

She was once again seated in the saddle with Lancelot. She had given up trying not to use him for a pillow. Her body was protesting and she could no longer fight it. Every minute movement seemed to jar her and cause her to wince. "Lancelot, do you know where my bag is?" he didn't reply and she turned to make sure he had heard her when he handed it to her.

At her raised eyebrow he smiled, "I had it in my saddle bags." She nodded as she opened it and began rummaging through it. With a smile of glee she opened up the bottle of ibuprofen and swallowed two pills. She felt a nudge at her arms and smiled when he handed her a water skin. "Thank you." She murmured as she swallowed a mouthful with an audible gulp.

"What was that?"

"Medicine to help with the pain."

"Where did you get it?" He was trying to get her to open up. They all knew she was unusual and not from this time.

"I brought it with me." She replied quietly, trying to slide the barriers back in place. She knew he must wonder where she was from. But to try and explain to someone of the dark ages about time travel would be well... as impossible as explaining it to someone from the twentyfirst century. She let out a heavy sigh.

Lancelot noticed that she no longer relaxed against him. She lay against him only because his arm around her waist forced her to. He could see the tense posture as well as feel the pressure against his arm as she tried to both physically and mentally guard against him. He tried a different tack, "You have a unique accent where are you from?"

"Far from here."

"Far from Britian or far from this particular area?"

"From Britian."

"I see."

Delaney turned and glanced at him, then quickly looked back ahead. At least he didn't ask yet another question that she couldn't answer.

Lancelot smirked. He had to give her credit. She hadn't lied yet. She may have been vague, but she had as yet to lie. They rode on in a guarded silence.


	4. Welcome to the Wall

Delaney clutched Lancelot's cloak about her. They were sharing, the sky had decided to open up and pour down on them. "You did say we needed to bathe." He reminded her with a grin.

"Guess I need to be careful what I wish for." she muttered as she tried to hide under Lancelot's chin. However the water managed to cascade from his sharp chin right down her temple and down her neck into her shirt. "I feel like a drowned rat."

"The best looking drowned rat I've seen."

Laney turned and looked over her shoulder with a quizical look upon her face, "And how many drowned rats have you seen exactly, Mr. Lance-O-Lot?"

He smiled down at her, "Maybe one or two."

"May I add for the record that rats normally don't drown. In fact, if a building is flooding, follow the rats and you will usually find your escape."

"I'll have to keep that in mind."

"And the only reason you think I'm good looking is because I'm the only female among all you men."

"That's not it." He replied innocently.

"Innocence does not become you, Lancelot."

"Denial doesn't become you." With an added smirk he said, "M'Lady."

"Denial of what? And the only reason you use M'lady is when you're trying to pacify me."

"I've seen the way you look at me."

"Oh really? And how is THAT pray tell? Most of the time I'm rolling my eyes at you."

"I've seen the desirous glances." He answered smugly.

"Oh you do have quite the high regard for yourself don't you? You think that just because I use you for a head rest that I desire you? Please! I'm the one that hit their head yet I think you are the one with the addled brain!" Lancelot merrily chuckled.

"I said glances, never said anything about the fact that you feel comfortable enough to use my body for your bed."

This caused Delaney to blush. The remark itself was innocent enough but the fire it kindled was far from it. She glanced up to his eyes and found the usual mischevious glint however, something much more feral and masculine burned underneath. She trembled with excitement and turned back to face foward, thinking as the rain kept pouring, that at least it cooled her off.

The rain had stopped and so did they. Delaney stood next to a tree and stretched her back and sides. She was stiff, her butt numb and her thighs sore. Ever since Lancelot had indicated she desired him she tried not to lean against him. It was hard not to succumb to the security of his embrace. She paused in her stretch, "Security?" She mumbled. Is that what it was? He was safe? She started chuckling. "Lancelot? Safe?" Those two words did NOT belong in the same sentence together.

"People are going to wonder."

Laney gasped and turned. To find Tristan lounging against the tree. "Would you quit doing that! And people are going to wonder what?"

"If you're right in the head."

"Meaning?"

"Talking to yourself."

"I wasn't talking to myself."

"I heard it."

Laney crossed her arms and glared at the man, "Heard what exactly?"

"Enough." He grinned and walked away. Laney watched him go, blowing the bangs out of her eyes in exasperation.

"Lady Delaney,"

"What!" She asked in irritation, turning to find Arthur behind her. "I'm sorry, what do you need."

"Is everything okay?"

"It's fine, Arthur. I'm wet and sore, and a bit irritable. It's not like you are to blame." She offered a weak smile.

"I was wondering if we could talk a moment."

"Sure, what's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong. I was making sure you were okay. You seem distant and I was making sure you weren't feeling ill."

"I'm fine Arthur, I am just not used to all of this."

"Will you promise to tell me if something is wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong Arthur."

"Then why are you so guarded?"

"That has nothing to do with you, Arthur, honestly. I-I have some issues to work through that concern my time. So I guess really I shouldn't have them should I?" She half chuckled as she shrugged.

"My wife will very much want to meet you. Maybe you can explain your issues to her."

Laney couldn't help but smile. "I'm not with child, Arthur."

His face flushed as he smiled, "Well when you said---"

"I know. It's something I have to work through. That is about as good of an explaination as I can give. It's not necessarily a 'female' problem. Just issues."

"I'm glad we had this talk." He said very business like as Gawain came up to them. Arthur left and Gawain held out a cloak to Delaney.

"This way you don't have to share with that Oaf."

"I still have to share the horse though."

"Yes, well he has the biggest horse here that can handle the extra weight of another rider. The rest of ours..."

"Thank you Gawain. It's okay, he hasn't been rude or anything."

"If he gets to be just push him off. That will fix him."

"I would if I knew how to ride."

"Once we get back to the wall I'll teach you how."

"No laughing when I fall off?"

"We'll just tie you in!" He sauntered off and remounted, like everyone else. Delaney walked over to Lancelot's horse and found the knight stroking its mane and whispering to it. She had to smile.

"Are you ready?" She asked, securing the cloak around her neck.

"Just waiting on you." He walked over and lifted her up slowly skimming her against his body.

Delaney quickly sucked in a breath. She felt the muscled thighs against her leg and clenched the saddle horn even more tightly between her hands. Once she was mounted she felt him settle behind her. Then and only then did she slowly release the breath she had held.

"Comfortable?" He asked. He had been very mindful of her body against his. He hoped she wasn't offended by his response. He smirked to himself, when was he worried about offending a woman with his blatant advances? But she wasn't a bar wench to tup. There was something about her both strong yet vulnerable. She traded barbs with ease and quick wit, yet she was afraid. He knew it wasn't something to do with him or even the others. She was guarded around all to a degree. He would have to be patient, something that definitly was not one of his strong points.

Delaney shivered as his breath tickled her ear, "As I'll ever be." She clung to the horn, wondering what was wrong with her. Her body was starting to react to Lancelot on a totally different level and she had been normal just a day ago. Was it the flirting? Did her head not hurt all that much so she was more attuned to it? Was he being more flirtatious than before? These thoughts were going through her mind as they rode. They crested a hill then stopped and her breath caught. "oh God it's beautiful!" She exclaimed as she looked down on Hadrian's wall. The vallum and ditch could be seen along with the military road which is where they were going. She kept leaning forward for a better look, Lancelot finally reached out and wrapped his arm around her to pull her back.

"No wonder you fall off of horses!"

"I'm sorry, it's just that. Well, I mean. This is wonderful!" She watched as the horse trapsed along the road. Noting the stones underneath it's hooves. "Oh look at those stones and how precisely they fit. Look at that!" She exclaimed and pointed to perfectly fitted pieces.

"Yes, but I don't think the people forced to labor would feel that way."

"Very good point." She muttered, looking for all the world like a child who just got their cookie taken away.

Lancelot smiled, she was pouting. Though he seriously doubt that she would call it that. "What is your fascination with the wall anyway?"

"I grew up with stories about--" She stopped herself. "Never mind." She muttered as she pulled the borrowed cloak more tightly about her, keeping her eyes on the road ahead.


	5. Inside Hadrian's Wall

A/N–I have a very wonderful Beta who has been very gracious to help me with this story. Also... I'm sorry if this seems a "fill" chapter. Its really not, I'm just trying to show who these people are. Also normal disclaimers apply. I do not own, do not make money, have a few pennies if you really must sue...

Ailis 70–Welcome to the Wall indeed... I bet you can't wait either huh?

Tristanlover–well here we are, yet another update, hope you enjoy!

Lozcollie- Here's your update! Hope you like.

Jay-LOL I'm still laughing about the "mix up" hope you like.

Knightmaiden-I hope you are still enjoying yourself, and all I can say as to

Who she ends up with... well keep reading if you haven't already

guessed.

Cardeia-I hope I can keep your interest. Bear with me here, I'm in new

territory and am having to do a LOT of research. Even though I'm an

Arthurian buff I am also a history buff... so sometimes I forget more

than I remember.

There was cheering and yelling when they entered the gated area. Lancelot helped Delaney down and then another man named Ganis escorted her to a set of rooms and away from the people. He had smiled kindly and bid goodbye. She caressed the stones of the walls, the wood of the mantel and the fabric of the tapestries. She laid upon the feather ticking of the mattress and sighed.

Here she was in the middle of one of the grandest adventures in the history books and she was worried. The knights were nice enough. But, she knew history well enough to know women did not enjoy the same status in society. However, the myths of Arthur were fuzzy. The Woads held their women as equals; they even fought along side the men. The Sarmatians (which the men that she had just spent the last few days with were) held women as equals as well, in fact they were a matriarchal society. She was just going to have to sit back and observe she mussed.

She sat up and stretched. Then she smiled, at memories of exchanging barbs with Lancelot; along with a very basal sexual reaction to the man. "Oh come off it woman! He isn't going to give you the time of day." She rummaged through her purse and pulled out her brush and compact. When she caught sight of herself she winced. Her eyes were rimmed in black and blue, and one whole cheek was purple and swollen. The cut above her eye went from her temple to her eyebrow. Her lip had a lovely gash on the side of it.

"Oh yeah, like you're something to fawn over right now. NOT!" She began brushing her hair and caught a whiff of her own body odor. "Whoa! And I was giving Lancelot a hard time about smelling phew!" Just then there was a knock on the door.

She opened it and a woman bustled in, her graying hair twisted into a top knot upon her head. "Hello My lady." She said briskly as two men came in with a copper tub. The woman then set two large kettles of water upon the hearth of the fireplace. "Get some sleep and I'll have someone come wake you for your bath." With that the men and woman were gone and the door closed. Delaney shrugged and looked from the tub, to the kettles, to the bed. With a shrug of her shoulders she walked to the bed and slipped off her shoes, after laying down and pulling the blankets and furs tight about her she was fast asleep.

Delaney heard the door open and was suddenly awake, eyes blinking, gasping for air. A girl wearing an apron smiled and her hair tucked beneath a white cap at her demurely. "I'm here to help with your bath M'lady. I'm Ellen."

Delaney smiled at the girl, "Please call me Delaney or Laney for short. If you show me how to prepare the bath I think I can handle it from there."

"Oh goodness no, a Lady shouldn't have to bathe herself."

"Oh goodness yes, this lady does bathe herself."

"But, but--"

"It's a custom where I come from." Delaney offered not wishing to offend anyone. But all the same not wanting some stranger touching her.

The girl's eyes grew wide. "Begging your pardon." She said with a slight curtsy, she then poured the water into the tub from the two other pots and then pulled the chair from by the fire over to the edge of it. She placed a scrap of fabric, and a bar of lye upon it. "Here you go, Lady Delaney." She quickly scurried out.

Delaney touched the hot water with her hand and decided she could wait a few moments least she scald herself. She looked at the bar of soap and immediately decided that she valued her skin. She rummaged through her purse and only found a sample of shampoo from a hotel she had stayed at. Something was better than nothing she decided, upending the whole thing into the water. She waited a few moments more then climbed in. After awhile the heat from the water soothed her aching muscles and she sunk low into the tub, totally submerging herself. She came up to the surface and wiped her hair away from her eyes, tilting her head back and resting it upon the edge of the tub. She was just dozing off when she heard the door open again, She sat up immediately, clutching the edge of the tub, ducking down to hide her nudity.

Ellen smiled at her, "Here, Lady Delaney, I found these for you." She set a change of clothes upon the chair underneath the scrap of fabric. She then grabbed Delaney's clothes from the floor, "I'll take these and get them washed for you." She eyed the pile a moment and with that she was gone.

Delaney stared after her. She smirked to herself, wondering what the girl thought of her odd clothes much less the weird underwear. She relaxed until the water cooled. She then climbed out of the tub and quickly grabbed for the scrap of fabric to dry off with. She wrapped it about her head and quickly began putting on the clothes that Ellen had left for her.

First was the shift which she quickly slipped into. The shirt was a peasant blouse of an off white fabric and the skirt was a dark blue color. She was going to have to get used to the lack of underwear. She did a small circle as she twisted and looked down about herself. She wasn't a petite woman and she felt a bit uncomfortable about the lack of support for her bust. Nothing seemed to be puckering in the wrong places. With a final sweep of her hands down the skirt she decided she would just grin and bear it.

She grabbed the brush from her purse and began running it through her hair. Cringing every time she pulled through a tangle. Suddenly the image of a smiling Lancelot complete with his deep dimples slipped unhindered into her thoughts. "What am I going to do?" She muttered. Brushing through more snarls. "I mean the men keep hinting that he's a womanizer, but oh those eyes." She still remembered the intenseness of the look he had regarded her with when she had said she'd been through worse. It was almost like he cared.

She shook her head ruefully. A man like that uses and throws away. Brent taught you that. She looked at her image in her small compact. Brent beat that lesson into her. No one would want her now, she was so obviously used goods. But Lancelot would definitely make for a nice fantasy. She still remembered the warmth of his embrace and sighed. Dreams, dreams couldn't hurt her. She deftly plaited her hair and tied it back with a rubber band from around the handle of her hair brush. With a final brush of hands against the skirt she opened the door and there stood Arthur.

"My lady."

"Please, its Laney. My friends call me Laney and after riding with me for past few days I think we could call each other that."

"Lady Laney."

"No. No Lady. Just Laney." She had to get her point across now, or she feared she wouldn't be able to later.

"Laney, may I introduce my wife, Guinevere."

Delaney's gaze shifted over to the side of him and found a striking dark haired woman dressed in roman attire smiling at her. Something about her eyes were familiar. They were dark with a hint of amber, "I'm sorry, Guinevere, forgive my manners."

"You're fine, Laney. Would you care to accompany us to dinner?" Guinevere studied her. She had seen eyes that color before, in her memories. She would have to speak to her father and soon.

"I'd love to, being as I have no clue where I'm going." She stepped to the other side of Arthur and took the proffered arm.

Arthur seated Delaney to his right and Guinevere to his left. Lancelot was seated on the other side of Delaney sipping from a mug. He eyed Delaney appreciatively. Delaney felt herself blush to which his grin grew. He even bowed his head in her direction and winked. She sat down quickly. Lancelot leaned over and whispered, "You clean up well."

Delaney smirked, "You no longer smell."

"Does this please the Lady?"

Delaney caught his eye and felt herself warm again. "I would think it would please all concerned."

Gawain let out a hearty chuckle at the comment. "Good one, Laney, good one." He then turned to the cherub faced brunette next to him. "May I introduce Kensey. She is a friend of mine." There were some clearing of throats and hidden smirks at the comment. Gawain glowered at Galahad.

Delaney nodded at the young lady and smiled, "Kensey, pleased to meet you."

"Bors is here, we can begin!" Bors bellowed as he and a red haired woman came in followed by Dagonet and a pasel of children. Bors looked at Delaney and paused, "Well well, Lancelot, you sure you want men still?" He then smiled at Delaney, "I may still have to castrate him for ya, Lass." The woman next to him elbowed him in the ribs then smiled.

"I'm, Vanora. This oaf's wife."

"Pleased to meet you." Delaney smiled. Arthur cleared his throat and they all shuffled to their respective places quietly. Delaney noticed that the children had a table directly behind Bors and Dagonet and Vanora.

"Knights, and respected others. We have come back safe from our travel and with a guest. Let us welcome our honored guest, the Lady Delaney to the round table."

A mighty ruckus sounded about her as the knights pounded upon the table.

Delaney stood and bowed awkwardly as she studied the Latin writing etched upon the table. She quickly sat down again, running her hands lovingly over the writing. "Who did this?" She asked no on in particular.

"All of us." Arthur told her. "We each carved something about us into where we sat at the table."

"This place, was for a knight then. What happened to him?"

"Percival was killed in one of our many battles with the Woads." He looked sympathetically at Guinevere. "That was before we had an enemy in common and found out we worked well together."

"The Saxons." Delaney spoke quietly as she reverently ran her hands over the table. She noticed there was a figure of a horse and a small mouse on Lancelot's side.

"Yes, the Saxons."

"You know of the Saxons?" Gawain asked.

"Yes." Delaney stopped her hands and looked to all of them.

"They didn't---" Gawain touched his hand to his face.

Delaney smiled, self-consciously running her hand along her cheek bone, "No, the Saxons did not do this to me."

Guinevere watched the honey haired woman with a puzzled expression. Arthur had spoken to her about the fact she was of the future. How could she know of the Saxons? Did that mean she knew of Arthur? Guinevere smiled softly, "I'm sure when you are ready you will regal us with your tale, Delaney."

Delaney gave a nod of her head. Lancelot nudged her gently and she turned to look at him. He handed her a mug with a smile. Delaney smiled back and grasped the mug, mindful that his fingers pressed against hers second longer than needed. She felt her skin burn from the brief contact and quickly looked away.

Bringing the mug to her lips and drinking deep at the same time. She immediately started coughing. She set the mug quickly upon the table and covered her mouth. "Oh God, what is that stuff!" She gasped. Still smothering coughs with her hand.

"It's ale," Bors called raising his mug, "Puts hair on your chest!"

"I'm a woman, I'd rather not have a hairy chest." She sputtered. Ganis was suddenly beside her with a plate of food and a goblet of wine. "Thank you, Ganis." She sipped the wine and smiled, "Ahh much better!" Everyone smiled and chuckled. She noticed that there weren't any utensils. The food was what looked like a Cornish hen. She noticed how everyone was tearing into the meat and eating it directly off the bone. She daintily pulled a leg from hers and began to pull meat off.

Later on she found herself being lead out to the tavern. Guinevere telling her where everything was. Arthur adding his two cents about who owned what and introducing them to Delaney. Finally they broke into an open area with large tables and benches. Some Roman guards appeared to be playing a dice game and others were flirting with one of the waitresses. She noticed the large vessels made of clay sitting beside the bar.

Galahad went ahead and picked one up and sat comfortably on the bench. Lancelot grabbed one and refilled Delaney's cup first then drank from the pottery. Stories and jokes abounded and all Laney could do was laugh, and laugh some more. Wine kept coming and the stories got larger and more boisterous. Lancelot went to refill her cup but she put her hand over it and shook her head no.

He queried an eyebrow and leaned into her, "Is everything okay?"

Bors was in the middle of some battle story and talking loudly. She leaned back into Lancelot and turned her face so that she could talk into his ear. Her heart fluttered as she fought the urge to lick the outer shell, "I don't want to drink too much."

Lancelot smiled at her, suppressing the shiver her warm wine flavored breathe had wrought and rose from the bench, meandering his way over to one of the waitresses.

Delaney watched his easy manner with the woman and how she flushed as he smiled seductively. She felt her stomach clench as her mind said, "told you, no time for you." She quickly turned away, trying to listen to Bors.

Lancelot sauntered over with another mug and pottery vessel. He nudged Delaney as he sat down. She turned and was greeted with a mug being placed into her hand. He leaned into her and said, "Drink." She gave him a questioning look as she took a tentative sip then smiled when she realized it was water. She leaned into him, "Thank you."

Soon the party was winding down. Kensey and Gawain were the first to leave barely keeping their hands off each other. Arthur and Guinevere left soon after amidst smoldering glances. Bors and Vanora were cleaning up with help from Delaney and Lancelot and Dagonet. Galahad was softly snoring passed out as he was on the table. Tristan had disappeared.

Delaney stood surveying the tavern area with hands upon her hips. "I believe that is everything." She looked at Bors and Vanora. "Do you need any more help?"

"Go to bed. You've got to be just as tired as anyone." Vanora admonished.

"I'm not going to argue." She said good night to the couple then turned and found Lancelot waiting next to her. "Yes?"

"May I have the pleasure of your company?"

"To do what?"

"Walk you to your room."

"And then?" She raised an eyebrow, arms crossed over her chest.

"Now who's making a pass for whom?" he said with a smile.

"I wasn't trying-- I mean I --" She sputtered flushed with embarrassment. Lancelot smiled and gently placed two fingers against her lips. Delaney's eyes crossed as she tried to stare at the fingers she felt upon her mouth.

"You're going to hurt yourself between the crossed eyes and stumbling over that tongue of yours. I just want to walk you to your room, that is all." He removed his fingers and placed her hand upon his arm. He noticed how she touched her lips tenderly with her other hand before giving him a shy smile to lead on.


	6. The Round Table

A/N The usual disclaimers, don't own, don't sue.

Lozcollie- Hope you're still enjoying yourself.

Nickle- I hope you like this update as well.

Tristan Lover- Here's your update!

Knightmaiden- All suggestions and ideas are appreciated.

Cardeia- I love your reviews. I am glad you are enjoying this. And I'm sure

Bors is on a first name basis with Bacchus!

Ailis-70- Oh wonderful beta of mine. You know how I like to change up things To keep you on your toes!

Laney lay in bed, clad in nothing but her shift. She had dozed for awhile, now she laid there tossing and turning. Finally giving up she climbed from the bed and put on the skirt and blouse once again. She then put on the cloak which Lancelot had gallantly placed over her shoulders on their walk back to their rooms. She closed the door behind her, heading for one of the stairways that lead to the second level of the wall. She needed to think and she always found that staring at the stars always helped.

She leaned against the top of the stone, gently caressing her fingers along the lines of mortar. Replaying the series of events that lead her here. The bruises on her wrists were raw. She was thankful no one had pried. She ran her hand through her tangled hair as she watched the stars.

"You should be sleeping."

Laney turned and couldn't help the smirk, "Tristan, one of these days I'm going to get you back for sneaking up on me."

"If you would but listen I wouldn't."

Delaney smiled and turned back to watch the stars. Tristan stood next to her, bracing himself on the wall watching her. "You're troubled."

Delaney snorted. "Brilliant deduction."

"He won't hurt you."

"Who, Lancelot? That's the least of my worries."

"Why?"

"What if I hurt him?"

"You won't." He answered pointedly.

"And how do you know that?"

"You aren't the type."

"Type for what?"

"You wouldn't want to inflict pain."

She cackled at this, "You think you know me that well?"

In a swift motion he grabbed her wrist and held it up between them. The angry circular mark in full view of them both. "If you harmed who did this to you, you had a right."

Delaney quickly jerked away and looked at the stars giving Tristan her profile. Watching him from the corner of her eyes. She ran her hands across the stones of the wall, finding solace in their solidness.

"He was with another woman." Tristan asked as he carved a chunk of apple off with his knife.

"Yes."

"He was your husband?" He still wasn't looking at her, he was paying attention to the apple and his knife. Letting her have her privacy.

"Yes."

"He hurt you?" Tristan turned and looked directly at her. He felt a kinship with this woman. She understood what it meant to be around people and not have to fill the silence with heedless noise.

"Yes." She bit her lip, trembling with emotion.

"You feel guilty for hurting him?"

"No."

"You feel guilty for not feeling guilty?"

"Yes."

"How did you get here?" He asked nonchalantly as he ate yet another piece of the apple.

She looked over at him then back at the stars, then with a heavy sigh she turned her back to the wall, arms crossed and began softly,

"I remember coming home. He was there. Mind you, he isn't supposed to be, we have been separated for 5 years because I did walk in on him with another woman. Anyway, he was in my house. I didn't know it, I had come home from teaching and was going through my mail when he grabbed me from behind. He put these plastic strips around my wrists and was dragging me to the bedroom." She shook herself. "Anyway, I fought him. I drug my feet and he kicked me. I struggled and he hit me. Somehow I off balanced him enough that he tripped. That was my opportunity. I wrapped my wrists around him and choked him. I don't know if I killed him, when he stopped moving I pulled against the plastic as hard as I could and the plastic broke."

She paused, swallowing the bile in her throat. Tristan remained silent, letting her tell her story.

"I grabbed my keys and purse and got in the car and drove. Taking I-70 out of town. I was driving in the rain and I swerved to miss something in the road and the car tumbled through a guardrail and down the embankment. The airbag released and then I blacked out. Next thing I know I wake up in a mud puddle in this time." Her body was shaking when she finished. He regarded her cooly.

Tristan stared at the woman in front of him. The stars shed enough light that he could tell she was holding back unshed tears. He may not have understood everything she said, but he knew the emotions. "You worry Lancelot will be like him." He tossed the apple core over the side of the wall and re sheathed his knife. He then braced his hands behind him against the wall, awaiting her answer.

She inhaled sharply, "Yes." How could he know that?

"Lancelot would never do this." He gestured toward her wrist. "He likes his women. Since the battles have stopped, he isn't as much of a lecher."

"Ha!"

"He didn't take anyone to his bed this night."

"No, he walked me to my rooms."

"My point." He smirked, "Come, my watch is over." She followed him down the stairs then they walked together to her room. He paused at her door, "Do not worry. You will see."

Delaney shut the door and laid in bed, not bothering to take anything off but her boots. She smiled softly. With a contented sigh she rolled over and fell asleep. She felt a gentle touch to her hand. Then a slight nudge to her shoulder. She wearily opened her eyes to find Guinevere sitting next to her. Instantly she was awake. Sitting up quickly, she scrubbed her eyes and smiled, "Guinevere, what are you doing here? I mean morning."

Guinevere smiled at the groggy woman. "Don't fash yourself, Laney. It's mid day. I was just making sure you were alright."

"It's afternoon? Oh Good Lord!" Delaney scooted to the edge of the bed.

"I'm sure you needed the rest." She reached behind her and produced a tray full of fresh fruit and two bread rolls. There was also a mug of something. "Here, since you missed breakfast I'm sure you're hungry."

"Thank you." Laney tentatively took the mug and grinned when she saw it was water.

"May I ask you a question?" Guinevere asked politely.

Laney paused as she bit into an apple and stared at the woman. The intense brown eyes were almost black. She set the apple back upon the plate and folded her hands in her lap. "Go ahead." She stated quietly, bracing herself for whatever the question may be.

"What did you do in the future?"

"I taught history."

"Did you know of Arthur?"

"Yes."

"So people of your time know of my husband?"

"Kind of."

"How do you mean?"

"For the most part we thought he was a myth. But recently, we have found that there was once a man named Arthur Castus. We think our myths are based on your Arthur."

"What kind of myths?"

"Oh my, do you have all afternoon for me to explain?"

"Yes."

"Tell you what, let me go and get dressed and refresh myself and then I'll tell you of the myths of King Arthur."

Guinevere grinned, her eyes dancing. "Wonderful! Oh and brought you this!" She produced a dark blue roman style dress. "I think this will match your eyes!" She gushed.

Laney groaned, "You know, as beautiful as it is, I would much prefer pants!"

"Oh you'll be beautiful, you'll see!" Guinevere laid it upon the bed and then left the room.

Laney smirked at the dress. "I'm a jeans and T-shirt girl and wearing dresses. This has got to have something to do with Karma, I pissed off the goddess of dresses or something!" She muttered as she slipped off the other clothes and put on the dress Guinevere brought her. The dress was almost silky to the touch. She turned in a circle looking over her shoulder to make sure it wasn't asque. It was snug around her hips and breasts but not tight. She had to forgo the shift because it showed through the cut outs at the shoulders. She almost felt naked, yet strangely sensual. She smirked, sensual HA, not with the bruises she had. At least she was no longer sore, for that she was thankful. She was just brushing out her hair when there was a knock at her door.

"Come in" She called thinking it was Guinevere. Instead, as she turned to face the door still brushing out her hair she met with a gaping Gawain.

"My Lady!" He exclaimed.

Delaney stood straight and looked at him, self consciously smoothing out the dress, "Is something wrong?" Peering up at him through lowered lashes.

"Not at all." He smiled at her.

"Then why are you looking at me like that?" Delaney almost started looking around her to make sure she hadn't spilt food onto the dress somehow.

"Oh he's going to piss himself" Gawain gasped as he walked in a wide circle about her.

"Who's going to?" Delaney asked in great confusion, moving weight from one foot to the other in a nervous stance.

"Lancelot."

"Excuse me?" She asked as she looked at the knight. Why would Lancelot care what she wore? He didn't fancy her.

Gawain stopped his circling. "You are beautiful Delaney. Very beautiful."

"Yeah right. I look like a punching bag."

He caught her by the shoulders and forced her to look into his eyes, "No worse than the rest of us. But this... you need to wear dresses more often!"

"Not if I get this kind of reaction I'm not." Delaney wanted to suddenly have herself covered in her baggy jeans and non descript teal shirt.

"Precisely because you get this kind of reaction." He stopped gawking and smiled, "Guess we aren't going to have riding lessons today."

"Riding-- You wanted to start today?" She asked incredously.

"I did tell you once we got back to the wall. However, I like this much better. May I have the honor of escorting the Lady?" He held his arm out to her.

"Would you please stop doing that? It's Laney. I'm the same Laney that just spent two days on a camp out with you."

"Ah but you clean up so pretty." He said with a wink.

Laney slugged his arm and he laughed deeply. "Come, where are we off to?"

"I am supposed to talk to Guinevere."

"About?" He raised an eyebrow.

"She wanted to know about the myths of Arthur."

"You're going to tell a story?" His eyes sparkled.

"Yes, basically." She was once again smoothing her hands over the dress a bit self consciously.

"Then let us go to the tavern."


	7. Sword in the Stone

Ailis-70-Yes, now we have the flailing hands!

Nickle-I'm sure Delaney quite agrees with you about Tristan needing a bell! Here is your update, hope you enjoy!

Lozcollie-Hope I am still keeping your interest piqued!

Immortalwizardpirateelf-fan-The pairing will be answered in this chapter.

Tristanlover- Here is your new chapter!

Cardeia- Hope you continue to enjoy this. I have tried to show expression With my dialogues more this time. I forget people can't see into my Mind!

Pirate- Hope you can continue to enjoy the relationships as they grow!

A/N As always, all disclaimers apply. I don't own, make no money yada yada yada!

Delaney sat blushing upon the bench, not used to all the compliments. Guinevere patted her hand and leaned in and whispered. "You're beautiful, just wait until Lancelot sees you."

"Whatever are you talking about?" Laney whispered tersely back.

Guinevere smirked, "I saw how he acted last night."

Dagonet came sauntering up to her, "Delaney." He grinned.

"Dagonet."

"I hear you're going to regale us with a story, finally."

"Word travels quickly doesn't it." She stated thinly, fidgeting with the dress.

Gawain sat down with a mug of ale, his ginning face gave him away before he spoke. "I told Galahad."

"And that explains..." Delaney asked, raising an eyebrow.

"He told everyone else." Gawain answered smugly.

Delaney sat and nodded. "Do you all want me to begin or should we wait?"

"Arthur and Lancelot are at the practice grounds sparing. Maybe we should get them." Gawain stated.

"What about Bors and Tristan?"

Just then Bors came sauntering over to them, taking a long drink out of his mug, "Don't worry yourself so, Lass, I was coming."

"Tristan is probably around." Gawain shrugged.

"Yeah he probably is, just waiting to sneak up on me again." Delaney chuckled.

Delaney sat, her arms and hands swinging as she annunciated the points. Her fingers fluttering animatedly as she spoke, "Then, the clouds parted and the sun bathed Arthur in golden light as he tentatively reached for the sword handle. He paused to gather his strength, knowing if he did not get a sword Kay would surely beat him. After a moment, and with grim determination he heaved on the handle and with a "whoosh" pulled the sword from the stone!"

As she was mimicking pulling the sword from the stone she didn't realize that Lancelot had come to stand beside her and slapped the side of his face with her knuckles. The moment her hand made contact she jumped. "Oh God, Lancelot, I'm so sorry." She immediately got up and inspected his jaw.

He rubbed his jaw grinning, "That's the first time I've been punched by a woman."

"That wasn't a punch. Just a slap, of sorts." She winced. She touched where she had hit him. Only a bit of pink was showing, but she still felt bad. He stilled her hand by wrapping it in his own. He kissed her knuckles and then lowered it to her side.

"Just be careful next time when you pull imaginary swords from stones, M'lady." He bowed his head and sauntered toward the bar.

Delaney smiled shyly after him. With a nervous giggle she sat back down and took up from where she left off, "After pulling the sword from the stone Arthur ran as fast as he could to where Sir Kay and his father Sir Hector were at the jousting competition..."

"And they put Arthur on a raft, and he floated to Avalon, where it is said he lies in wait to this day, to arise when his time comes again." She sighed and took a large sip of water. Guinevere looked at her in awe, "That is a wonderful story. And this is based on my husband?"

"Actually, we think the legend was embellished over the years, not that it is literally true. But yes, we think your husband's deeds are at the heart of it."

Arthur, who had come in with Lancelot asked, "Where did this idea of a magical sword come from?"

"I think it's supposed to be the symbol of justice, which is what you stood for." Arthur nodded, deep in thought. Delaney looked around at all the smiling faces.

Bors stared at Lancelot then at Guinevere then back at Lancelot, "You know that part with Lancelot and Guinevere, that isn't true. Arthur'd have his balls for baubles."

Laney had just been drinking her water and inhaled sharply. After sneezing three times she laughed. Lancelot had turned crimson and couldn't meet anyone's eyes.

Arthur grinned at Lancelot, and patted him on the back, "He's my friend, he wouldn't do that."

Delaney cleared her throat, "I think people liked to have a bit of dilly dallying to make it interesting, and maybe a bit angsty. I am not saying that this is based on fact. Remember that, it was a story. Seems the only thing so far that is true are the names of people involved."

Dagonet quietly stated, "Our Guinevere is definitely no timid flower."

"That is true." Guinevere agreed.

Delaney sat and listened to all the discussion, resting her hand against her head and gently making figure eights with her finger tip upon the wood of the table. She was tired. She felt a hand upon hers and looked up to be staring into Lancelot's eyes. "Yes?"

"Your thoughts weren't here. Is everything okay?"

"Just tired."

"Let's take a walk." He motioned for her to go in front of him, inclining his head slightly.

Delaney looked around at everyone, still engrossed in debate. She caught Guinevere's eye and motioned toward Lancelot. The woman smiled and nodded, making a shooing motion with her hand. Delaney grinned and walked with Lancelot away from the group. He lead her up the stairs to the second story of the wall and to the exact spot where Tristan and Delaney had their discussion earlier. Delaney rested her arms against the wall and looked out upon the green lushness of the land.

"You look quite beautiful today." He appraised her, letting her know with his eyes how beautiful she was.

Delaney flushed, something she found she was doing constantly around this man. "Thank you."

"You don't have to be so formal."

"I'm not trying to be." She stood against the wall not knowing what to do with her hands. She finally settled with folding them primly in front of her and watching the leather clad knight.

"Do I repulse you?"

"What?" She looked at him, confusion upon her face. Lancelot repulse her? Far from it. He was one of the most handsome men she had ever seen. From his expressive eyes to the mischievous smirk to the toned arms and leather clad legs.

"I didn't think so. So why do you try and avoid me?" He ducked his head down so he could look her in the eye.

"I am not trying to avoid you." She looked down at her hands, unable to meet his all knowing, smoldering gaze.

"Yet you stand an arms length away from me?" His voice dripped feigned innocence.

"That's not avoidance, that's called personal space." She wasn't looking at him. She kept staring out across the green hills.

"I think you're scared." He chided.

"I'm not scared!" She met his gaze hands on her hips.

"Then come closer." He said smiling at her haughtiness.

"Why?" she squinted her eyes studying him.

"Because I asked nicely."

Delaney regarded him in bewilderment. She saw the playful glint in his eye and couldn't figure out his game. Grudgingly, she slid a step closer. He didn't seem to even notice. She then relaxed. He turned and looked at her, smirking.

"Remember when we were riding?" He fought the urge to place the stray hair that was blowing about her eyes behind her ear.

"What about when we were riding?"

"How I said I didn't bite."

"And I said probably only when asked. Yes I remember, why?" She regarded him skeptically.

"Do you bite? When asked?" He cocked an eyebrow.

"Maybe?" Her eyebrows rose to her hairline.

Lancelot leaned closer, "I'm asking."

"Asking what?" She was thoroughly confused. She fought not to step back.

"I want you to bite me." He stated huskily.

"What?" She wasn't grasping where this was going at all.

"Because if you hurt me, maybe I won't want to do this." With blinding speed he reached for her, tugged her to him and covered her mouth with his.

Delaney was still trying to figure out why he wanted her to bite him when she felt his mouth gentle but urgent upon hers. Jolts of warmth could be felt anywhere his lips touched hers. She clutched his tunic as his mouth laid feverent butterfly kisses along her lips. She gasped and then his tongue plunged into hers and she was lost. All she could do was hold on and hope she didn't die from the fire that was building deep inside her.

Lancelot was burning with need. He thought if he kissed her that fire would be sated, instead it ignited. He took her lower lip between his, gently flicking his tongue across the sore. He pulled her to him in a tight embrace, gasping for air. "I wanted to do that since you first sat in front of me." He whispered into the hair over her ear. Feeling her trembling body against his.

Delaney gasped for air. Her body tingled from head to toe. She clung to him, trying to steady her racing heart. She was even more confused. She didn't know what to say. What did he want? "Lancelot?"

"Hmm." Was the muffled reply, as he cradled her against him.

"Let go of me." She felt indignation was the best way to deal with the sudden desire that coursed through her body.

He pulled back just enough so he could see her eyes. "Why?"

Delaney tried to remain stiff and not lean into him, no matter how much her body wanted to. "I am not some woman to be toyed with. You can't just kiss me when you feel the need!"

"I know that."

"Then let me go!" She stood stifly in his embrace, finding he held her fast.

"Why?" He was thoroughly confused now. She had answered his kiss with just as much passion as he felt, now she wanted to run.

"Why what?" She kept her voice steady and fought to not look away from his still smoldering gaze.

"Why do you want me to let you go?"

"Because, I asked you to."

"But, you don't mean it." He grinned playfully down at her. She wasn't even trying to pull away, just standing there stiff and tense.

"I do to mean it." She uttered quietly through clenched teeth. Hoping he wouldn't call her bluff. If he kissed her that passionantly again it would be her undoing. She couldn't let him do that to her. She couldn't let her body betray her.

"Prove it."

"Prove it? I asked you to let me go, why do I need proof?"

"Because, your body says otherwise." He ran his hand from her neck, gently over the fall of her shoulders down her arm, and to her wrist. He then clasped her hand in his and gently kissed every finger tip. Her sharp intake of breath was not lost on him.

Delaney barely supressed the moan that almost escaped from her lips. He was doing things that she had fantasized him doing and now she didn't know what to do about it. She quickly removed her hand from his and slapped him across the face.

This brought a deep rumbling chuckle from him, "Oh, My Lady! You are a fiesty one!" He leaned in closer, "Are you this fiesty in bed?"

Delaney reddened, "I am NOT one of your conquests Sir Lanc-O-Lot!"

He smirked, then grew serious, "I never said you were." He stepped back.

Delaney stood there, chest heaving. Her body was tingling and her mind reeling. His eyes were guarded even though he still wore a playful smirk. Why did she feel guilty all of a sudden?

She turned and looked at the stones of the wall. Her body thrumming with an aliveness she had never known. He stood looking out, arms braced upon the wall. She sighed, "I'm sorry."

Lancelot turned, regarding her wearily. He knew he had to choose his words carefully if he wanted something with this woman. He smiled inwardly, since when did he care if a woman gave him the time of day or not? There were always more. But none like this, he told himself. "It's not your fault."

"I know," she mumbled.

"Now look who's full of themselves."

She sighed. "You can't help how you are and I can't help how I am."

Lancelot studied her serious expression. "Am I all that bad?"

She laughed, "Oh don't even attempt to play that card."

"What card?" He asked innocently, the playful glint back in his eye.

"The poor me, I can't find anyone for me card. You know how pretty you are."

"I am not "pretty" I'm handsome." He stood puffing out his chest.

Delaney smiled, "See what I mean. You have ladies falling all over themselves for you. You'll forget about the likes of me within a week."

"There is no forgetting you, Delaney." He replied quietly as he stared into her eyes. He saw the sudden flush to her face. "I speak the truth."

"I'm easily forgettable, trust me on that."

"Who made you feel so worthless as to think you could be forgotten?"

Delaney stared at him. The concern was back in his voice. She handled the womanizing male better than the concerned one. "Life has taught me that."

"I think people in your time have a lot to learn then. How could they forget a woman the likes of you."

"Just as you can forget who you last slept with."

"I beg your pardon! It was Merry. A wonderfully pert girl with wicked fingers."

Delaney was blushing "I don't need the details, Lancelot. But I'm glad you remember who it was."

"It was a few weeks ago, back when. Well, let us just say it was a battle and I needed to get my mind off things."

"That's normal. It's normal to want to reaffirm life when one has seen such bloodshed." Her mind raced, trying to put a name to the battle he would be speaking of. Suddenly it clicked, Bandon Hill. The largest battle with the Saxons. No wonder he needed to have a woman warm his bed. The horrors the man must have seen, not only that battle but so many others. Once again she was reminded how different her time was compared to his.

"I don't know about reaffirming life or something so poetic, I just needed a warm body and she was willing as long as I paid well." He added with a wink.

"Ahh I see." Delaney giggled as he wagged his eyebrows at her. She turned and stared out at the vallum and the road that yesterday she herself had ridden on. She felt his hand over hers and looked over at him.

"Don't you feel that?" He asked quietly.

"Feel what?"

"We have a connection, Delaney." He caressed her cheek with his hand, "Every time I touch you I feel something. I know you feel it as well."

Delaney stared at their hands. "Oh Lancelot, you don't want me."

"Really? How would you know?" She had tried to slide her hand out from beneath his, he held fast.

"I am used goods." She focused her stare at their hands, bracing against the inevitable withdrawl.

"There is a difference between used and experienced. I've been sampled enough myself."

"I'm not from here." Surely this man would see the light. There was that beautiful bar wench from last night that would have been very happy in his arms.

"Neither am I."

"I'm not even from your time!"

"All the more mysterious."

"Look at me! I have bruises everywhere." He wasn't for real. She obviously had hit her head worse than she thought.

"And I don't? Give me one good reason to not try." His eyes implored her.

"I'm scared." She finally blurted. Seeing something so truthful in those brown depths she had to tear her eyes away.

"Not good enough, and what are you scared of? I would never hurt you."

"Not that kind of scared." She mumbled, still looking at anything but him.

"Then what kind of scared?" He had to keep dipping his head and moving from side to side to continue to be able to meet her gaze.

Delaney sighed, finally giving up on trying to avoid eye contact. How do you explain that everything scares you? "What do you want from me?"

"Anything you are willing to give." He removed his hand from atop hers and stepped closer. He held her face carefully in both of his hands. Running his thumbs along the cheek bones. Savoring the smoothness of her skin and the silkiness of her hair.

"You confuse me." She murmured looking shyly up at him

"Good."

He leaned in as if to kiss her and then suddenly she felt him stiffen. "What's wrong?" Worry laced her voice.

"Maybe nothing. Maybe everything." She turned to see what he was staring at and saw several riders come up the road.

"Romans?" She asked, barely keeping a tremor from her voice.

"By the looks of them."

"I thought they were pulling out of Britain?" She hurriedly followed him down the steps.

"They're supposed to be." He saw Arthur further down the way and called "Arthur! We've got riders!"

Just then the guards along the wall started calling "Riders approaching!"

Arthur ran up to Lancelot, "Armed?"

"Most likely, they're Roman." He offered by way of explaination.

"What are they doing here?" Delaney muttered.

"One way to find out." Lancelot muttered as he and Arthur went to the giant doors and waited impatiently as they creaked open.


	8. Roman's

Usual disclaimer. I own nothing but Delaney. I just play with all the others.

A/N I'm setting up for some stuff here. Hope it reads okay. Mucho thanks to my Beta, oh goddess that you are!

Ailis-70- Galahad the gossiper yes sir! I'm sorry, being a military wife you Find that the men sometimes gossip more than the women! So glad you Liked the "smack"!

Pirate- Be patient, you will find out about Delaney. What are the Romans There for? I believe you'll find out in this chapter. Hope you Enjoy!

Tristanlover- Here is the update you have been waiting for!

Lozcollie- Thank you so much and here is your update.

Knightmaiden- You will see about the riders. Lancelot, well he's charming. I Don't know if I'd go as far to say sweet, at the moment. But Hey, I wouldn't complain if he took an interest in me! I hope Tristan finds someone too.

Delaney and Guinevere waited impatiently in Delaney's room. Delaney kept pacing back and forth between the window and the door. Guinevere eyed her, "What did you and Lancelot talk about?"

Delaney smirked, "Guinevere, quit being coy and just come out with it."

"Did he kiss you?" She asked, schooling her face to reveal nothing.

"Yes." She answered absently as she continued to pace.

"You know something don't you?"

"Not necessarily."

"Laney, you can tell me."

"I don't necessarily "know" anything. Just because I know history doesn't mean I know this!"

Guinevere looked at her. She could feel the frustration rolling off her in waves. "You have eyes like my mother, you know."

"I do?" Delaney paused, staring at the other woman.

"Yes. My father used to say that they raged like tumultuous seas when she was angry. Much like I see yours rage."

"Have never been told that. I always thought they were a drab blue."

"There is nothing drab about you."

Delaney smirked before she continued her pacing. There was a sharp rap upon the door. She quickly opened it. There stood Arthur and Lancelot. She ushered them in and quickly shut the door behind them. "What is going on?"

"Saxons are invading again. Those were a group of guards we had just finished escorting before we came upon you. The boat was attacked and they were the only ones to escape." Arthur fixed Delaney with his gaze, she had been pacing and nodding her head slightly as he spoke. "Something tells me you know of this."

"I know some. There were three major Saxon invasions the first one was the Battle of Badon Hill and the second and third I just know there were battles."

"Did we win?"

Delaney had to smile, "Why do you think I'm telling you what I know?"

Lancelot laughed, "Don't want to mess up the past."

"It's mind boggling enough to think of my past as your future. Don't remind me." Arthur was deep in thought. Lancelot smirked at Delaney and Guinevere watched her husband.

"I say we ride towards the Coast and if we come upon them take them out there before they get to the fort."

"But wouldn't the fort be more secure?"

"Yes but if we surprise them, it may be to our advantage."

"True. I'm no strategist Arthur. I suck at chess so I'll leave you to the when and where's."

"How do you suck at chess?" Lancelot asked with a devilish grin.

"I don't play it well, is that better?" His grin widened to show off his dimples.

Arthur looked from Guinevere to Delaney, "Do not tell these Roman's what you know."

"I know, they'll think I'm a heretic."

"You do not want that."

"I'll be fine."

"They are not civilized people, Delaney." Guinevere said, a trace of contempt in her voice.

"You forget, I am a historian by nature. I know how uncivilized they are. They may call themselves Christian but they are not."

Arthur nodded his head. "We'll have a dinner to honor them this evening."

"Great that means yet another dress!" Laney groaned.

Arthur paused before he opened the door to leave, "I'm sorry, Delaney, but you aren't going to be there. As much as I want your counsel and observations, I cannot allow you to be at the dinner unless you are in a role for a serving woman. You do not want that."

Delaney stared from Arthur to Guinevere and in the end to Lancelot. She noticed the tell tale pulse throbbing against his clenched jaw. "I wasn't asking permission, Arthur. If you need me to be there, I shall be there. But, if it will cause problems in the end, I can stay behind."

"I think it would be best. Why don't you help Vanora at the Tavern."

"I could do that."

"That is the best I can do." Arthur offered in explanation.

Lancelot paused a moment opened his mouth as if to say something, then quickly followed Arthur. Delaney shut the door behind them, laying her head against it. "Welcome to the dark ages," she muttered.

Laney found herself dressed in yet another of Guinevere's dresses. This one however was a dove gray color. It made her eyes almost a gunmetal gray. Which was how she felt, somber. She sipped her wine, listening to the conversations, looking into her cup whenever a Roman looked her direction. Apparently only the Roman officers were at the dinner with Arthur, the mere enlisted were here.

She had been helping Vanora serve them and had lost count of the times that she had had to good naturedly swat away groping hands. She paused a moment as Vanora piled more mugs and wine vessels upon her tray. The other woman smiled at her, "Cheer up, Lass, they'll be down in their cups soon enough."

"It will probably get worse before it gets better." Delaney mumbled as she once again made her way through the crowd, depositing full wine mugs in front of the men and whisking the empty one's away. She had made several more rounds when she heard loud voices coming towards her. She turned and saw first Galahad and Gawain making their way to the table she had sat at to tell of the legend of Arthur. She felt a hand upon her shoulder and turned to see who it was attached to.

Dagonet grinned down at her, then said softly, "Be careful, Laney, the Roman's have been on the road and not around women for some time."

Delaney had to smirk, "You forget, only the officers were at the feast." She gestured toward the cluster of drunken Roman's she had already been dealing with. Dagonet gave her a crooked grin and went off to his spot at the bar.

Delaney followed Vanora to the table full of knights and Roman officers. She had fully expected to see Guinevere sitting next to Arthur and was disappointed when she wasn't. She continued depositing mugs in front of the men, wondering where the brunette had wandered off to when she felt herself being drug into someone's lap. She quickly set the tray upon the table.

"What's your name?" A thickly accented voice ground out.

Delaney felt all of her senses go on alert. She stiffened, smiling around clenched teeth, "Delaney, sir. I need to get the rest of the drinks out." She moved to rise but the man kept a hold of her.

"Let the other woman serve, you are with me tonight. He studied her, "You've got a strange accent."

Delaney felt the color drain from her face. She looked to Lancelot who was sitting next the man who was manhandling her.

Lancelot felt his stomach churn when he saw the Roman grab Delaney. "That one's mine, friend." He said it with a smile, but his words were edged with steel.

The man clapped him on his back, "I'll pay her well, she can be yours tomorrow."

Delaney looked at Vanora who was just giving Bors and another Roman their mugs. The woman looked at her sympathetically then went on her way. Delaney slapped the Roman's hand away as he tried to fondle her breast.

"Look at that! She's got spirit!" He chortled happily.

Delaney glared at Arthur, imploring him to do something. She was trying not to offend anyone, but by God, if someone didn't do something soon, she was going to take matters into her own hands.

"Actavius, this woman is not normally a sporting girl."

"For a Roman she will be, won't you?" He laid a kiss against her neck.

Delaney felt the bile rising in her throat. The man was openly trying to grope her and the knights seemed to be doing some sort of political dance. What the HELL had gone on at the banquet? "Sir, if you please, I'm not feeling well."

"Not feeling well? You look fine to me!"

Delaney's mind raced as her stomach turned more queasy. An image of Galahad gutting the rabbits came to mind and she felt herself gag. She had time enough to turn her head before she retched, however it still got the bench and Lancelot. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"If you please, I need to clean this up." The Roman let her go without fight.

Ellen, who was cleaning the mugs behind the bar giggled as Delaney came up. "I've never seen that approach."

"I told him I wasn't feeling well. Now I need to clean it up."

Vanora placed a hand upon her shoulder. "Don't bother, I will get it done. You two best be going. I'll find Merry and Catie and they can keep those Roman's occupied."

Ellen wiped her hands upon her apron and left. Delaney paused to speak with Vanora. "Why didn't Arthur stop the Roman? Where's Guinevere?"

"Guinevere was at the banquet, but it's not proper for a woman to be with the knights at the tavern."

"Arthur doesn't want to piss off his guests in other words."

"Correct. As for why didn't Arthur stop the Roman, from what I have seen, they usually have their pick of women to warm their beds."

"So again, Arthur didn't want to make waves."

"Don't get me wrong, Lass, if the Roman had forced it, and you hadn't thought of a way to get out of it, I'd bet that Lancelot would have come to your rescue."

"Because he likes me, or because as Arthur's right hand man he plays interference so his Commander can save face?"

"Both." Vanora said with an impish smile.

Delaney shook her head, and walked out of the tavern. She was never good with politics, she realized in this day and age she was really out of her element.

Once she got far from the tavern and into the labyrinth of stone walls from the buildings and houses she breathed a sigh of relief. Leaning back into the wall and thanking God and any other deity's that she had gotten away with not having to be a bed warmer for the man. She had just turned the final corner to her rooms when she heard muffled sobs. She followed the sound and felt her heart in her throat. There stood Ellen pushed against the wall, her blouse torn and skirt bunched to her thighs as the huge hulk of Actavius leered down at her and was about to--- "NO!" Delaney screamed as she charged the man. He looked at her with such absolute shock that he didn't notice that she had grabbed his dagger from its scabbard and had it pressed to his throat as the woman he was about to Rape stood behind the blonde woman with the blade. "Just because you didn't get what you want doesn't mean that you can take an unwilling woman!"

He went to grab it from Delaney when she blocked the incoming hand and swept the dagger back, cutting his other forearm.

"That wasn't smart woman."

"Neither is forcing yourself upon a woman."

"Who cares, you're commoners. You aren't even Roman. Much less Christian!"

"Doesn't matter, no is still no." They circled, Delaney kept the wall at her back.

"I'm going to take that dagger and carve my name into your bloody hide."

"Have to get it from my hands first."

He tried a feint, Delaney spun, stomping hard on his foot and then bringing her knee up to his groin. He doubled over immediately. She quickly turned the blade over and used the handle of the dagger between her fists to hit the man in the lower back. Her hands slid over the sharp edge and it fell from her grasp. The man howled in the street in pain. "Go to the woman." Delaney looked up at Tristan who sounded a bit out of breath. She gave a sharp nod. Thankful that he had snuck up on her once again.

Ellen was crouched by the wall, trying to cover herself. Delaney pulled the remnants of the shift together then the blouse. She held the woman in a soothing embrace. "Are you okay?" She searched the woman's face. Bruised but no blood.

"If you hadn't come along when you did he---"

"Sshh don't think about that." Delaney soothed while keeping a weary eye on the downed guard.

"IS she okay?" Tristan asked quietly. He had made sure to follow Delaney as soon as Actavius said he was leaving.

Delaney smiled, she was actually glad to see him. "Yes, just shaken. I'm so thankful you're here."

"You did this?" Tristan asked, noting the blood along the ground and the moaning man.

Delaney could only nod. Tristan shook his head grimly. "Go get Arthur and the Roman commander. I'll look after the girl and the Roman."

"She needs a cloak or something, Tristan."

Tristan nodded and was off. Moments later he returned with a blanket and handed it to Delaney. Delaney wrapped it around the sobbing woman. "Ellen," she spoke softly, "Tristan is going to stay here with you while I go get Arthur, alright?" Ellen cast frightened eyes at the knight. "Has he ever hurt you?" The woman shook her head, "He won't now either." She nodded in agreement. "I'll be back as soon as possible." With that Delaney squeezed her shoulder and was off to the tavern.


	9. Crimes and Punishments

Tristanlover– Sorry if you think it's out of character for Delaney to beat someone up. Honestly It's mere self defense. A girl with her past would definitly know some.

Lozcollie– hope I keep your interest. Here's your update.

Pirate– She only knows what the history books say, and history is written by the winning side. Besides, how do we know she hasn't messed up history?

Ailis-70– As always, your reviews are greatly appreciated. Thanks oh Beta Goddess of mine!

Knightmaiden–You will just have to read and see as to who Ellen ends up with. Tristan will Have his own demons to contend with; as will all of them.

A/N usual disclaimer, don't own. No sue. Can only wish I did...

Delaney paused before turning the final corner to the open area that was the tavern. She took a deep breath trying to still her rampaging heart. She rolled her neck once. Twice. Then stood straight and walked to his table like she did when she entered the classroom.

"Arthur." Suddenly all conversations stopped and all eyes were on her. "Please, come with me."

Even though her voice was quiet, the command brooked no argument. She didn't look at anyone except Arthur. He regarded her a moment then rose from the table. She lead Arthur and the rest to where Tristan stood waiting. Arthur looked from Tristan to Ellen to the Roman and finally settled on Laney. Laney took a deep breath and stood shoulders squared, waiting.

"What happened?" Arthur asked emotionlessly. Looking only at Tristan, and ignoring Delaney.

His scout regarded him somberly, and that was all that he needed. He knew before this night was over, all the propriety he had tried for would be undone by this small quick witted woman. Honestly, he was glad. However, he feared she would pay the consequences and there would be nothing he and his knights could do to protect her.

He had enough of the Romans looking down their noses at his knights. The knights that were better than most men he had ever met. Knights that Palagieus would have been proud of. He thought all of this and still gazed calmly at the scout, awaiting his answer. Instead it came from the golden haired woman that stood to the side of the scout, almost as if she was trying to hide.

Tristan glanced from Delaney to Arthur and then back. Hoping to give her courage to tell her story. Knowing that the Roman commander would be fair and listen. That he didn't treat women as most Roman's did. That he held that women were to be respected. His mother had probably taught him that, she had been Britain. Just as Guinevere was. Woads and Sarmatians had a lot in common; both being matriarchal societies just one of them.

Delaney quietly explained, "I came upon them. Ellen was crying and he appeared to be hurting her."

Arthur gave a nod and walked over to the cowering woman. He gently kneeled next to her and spoke softly enough that no one else heard. Save maybe Tristan. He kept a cool gaze leveled at Laney. Laney fought the urge to twirl her hair in her fingers. Instead she clasped her hands behind her back and stared at Tristan. A few moments passed when Arthur came back to them.

"She says that you fought the Roman that was trying to rape her."

"I did." Arthur looked from her to Tristan and back, his eyes looking quite sad. Just then the Roman commander who had been checking on Actavius came up to Arthur.

"Activius claims that she stabbed him with the knife because he didn't want her."

Delaney muttered "Oh please!" Then caught Arthur's look, he stared at her; his green eyes cold. Delaney swallowed the rest of her retort.

"Lady Ellen claims that Activius was forcing himself upon her and Lady Delaney intervened to protect her."

"You take the word of a woman over a Roman Guard, Arthur?"

Arthur looked over at Actavius then back at the commander, "Casius, look at the woman, do you really think Ellen had her blouse ripped out of desire? What about her blackened cheek?"

"Some women like it rough."

Delaney tightened her fists. Suddenly Tristan was beside her his presence enough to force her to unclench her hands.

"Nothing will be done with the serving wench. However, this one needs to be taught a lesson. Actavius can't even hold his sword now. She sliced a tendon."

Delaney felt her stomach grow queasy. She hadn't meant to do that, draw a bit of blood yes. But this, this meant punishment. Arthur stared steadily at Casius, the pulse in his jaw the only give away as to his mood. "What would you have me do, Casius?"

"A public flogging should suffice. The Law of Moses dictates 39 lashes." Delaney felt her eyes grow wide and her stomach dropped to her feet.

"39? That will kill her."

"She commited treason against Rome."

"How so?"

"She hurt one of Rome's greatest heros and is slowly blinding you and your knights with her feminine wiles." The commander paused a moment, thinking. "We don't wish to kill her, just teach her a lesson. Twenty lashes Arthur, or we investigate further. Do not push it."

Arthur leveled Laney with direct gaze, she gave a slight nod. "Fine, tomorrow, we will deal out her punishment. This evening, we need her to take care of the other girl."

"Fine." With that Casius and a couple other Roman soldiers helped the still whimpering Octavius away.

"You cannot do this, Arthur!" Lancelot bellowed.

"I had no choice, Lancelot." Arthur almost pleaded.

Delaney held up her hand, "Do you really think this is a conversation to be having here? Let us get Ellen back to my rooms." They quietly helped the injured woman to Delaney's room. While Delaney and Dagonet put salve upon her bruises they could hear Arthur and Lancelot arguing quietly in her sitting room. She smiled weakly at Dagonet, "Fine mess I got myself in."

"I will make sure you receive proper care after."

"I know, Dagonet, I know." They had given Ellen a tea to calm her nerves and the young woman was softly snoring. They quietly left the room. Lancelot was pale, his mouth set in a grim line. Arthur looked apologetically at Delaney. "It's the least we could do."

She held the man's gaze, wanting to rail against him. Scream at him for not standing up for her. Pound his chest and scream "But you are supposedly the King of Britain! The Roman's have left YOU command now!"

But, that wouldn't change anything. So, instead, she smiled and set him at ease.

"Arthur, no need to apologize. They want their pint of blood and pound of flesh. I'll be fine. I'll heal." She felt her voice catch at the last. A flogging was not going to be pleasant. If it was like the flagellum that she studied it would have knots, or possibly bones or rocks tied to it and have 5 lashes. She shook her head to take the images away. She wanted to scream how unfair it was; but this was the Middle Ages, women didn't have rights and she bloodied not just a mere man, but a Roman guard.

"I cannot Arthur. And personally I don't see how you can allow this." Lancelot bellowed; looking imploringly from Delaney to Arthur.

"Cannot what?" She asked, forcing her thoughts to the here and now.

"Normally it would fall onto Lancelot to meat out the punishment." Arthur explained.

"Ahh the commander can't get his hands bloody type thing huh?" Delaney stated sarcastically, anything to hide the fact she was holding herself together by sheer will.

"Yes." Arthur breathed out in a near whisper.

"Will they be suspicious if Lancelot doesn't do the flogging?" Worry evident in her voice. She didn't want any further punishment to happen on her behalf. She had wronged them enough as it was.

"No. Most men would have problems flogging a woman."

"Fine, then find someone else." She felt suddenly very tired and numb.

"That's the problem I know of no one who will be willing to do it." Arthur ran his hand absently through his hair. Lancelot stood stiff in the middle of the room, looking first toward the room where Ellen lay, then to Delaney; a look he couldn't describe in her eyes; and then at Arthur. Beseeching yet no words were uttered.

"I will do it." Tristan pushed away from the wall and stood next to Arthur. His brown eyes more guarded than normal. Laney stared at him, teeth clenched. This quiet one would do the unthinkable for all of them and hopefully it wouldn't cost him his soul.

"Should have known, Tristan. You take too much pleasure---" Tristan grabbed Lancelot on the bicep and stared into his eyes.

"Do not take duty as pleasure. I will do it because I can. Not because I enjoy it." With that he left. Dagonet soon followed suit, placing an apologetic hand upon Delaney's shoulder. Arthur stared from Lancelot to Delaney. "I am sorry."

"I will live, Arthur. Do not blame yourself. As soon as the flogging takes place are they leaving?"

"Yes. We will follow them the day after. We need to rid our shores of the Saxons." Delaney merely nodded.

"You want me to leave when she will need help?" Lancelot's voice rose once again.

"Lancelot, do not forsake your duty for me. I will be fine." Delaney soothed.

"I do not want the last moments we share together to be pained." He turned his anguished face to her.

"I will be fine, you shall see." She gave Lancelot's hand a comforting squeeze, " And what do you mean last moments? I do not plan on dying for this." She gave him a meaningful look, "Now go before people start bringing up better charges."

Arthur and Lancelot left together. Delaney paused at the door, her body shaking as she cried silently. After a few moments, and a sniffle she went to Ellen. She gently rubbed Ellen's back when she started whimpering. Finally Delaney settled upon a small prayer to help her stay strong and not give the Roman's satisfaction of hearing her scream.

Ellen had fallen asleep long ago. Delaney, quietly got up and put on her ivory peasant blouse and skirt. She pulled on the cloak Lancelot had given her and silently left her rooms. She needed to think; to prepare. She walked up the stairs to the second story of the wall and looked up at the stars.

"You shouldn't be here."

Delaney jumped, and rolled her eyes, "You live to do that don't you?"

Tristan smirked then quickly turned serious. "You need to be well rested."

"Afraid I'll fall asleep during my flogging?"

He regarded her cooly, "You will catch infection more quickly if not well rested."

"I can't sleep."

"Understandable."

They stood in companionable silence. "Why did you agree to it, Tristan?" Delaney didn't look at him, just continued to stare at the stars.

"Because no one else would."

She studied the silent man, not knowing what else to say. Tristan met her gaze steadily. They were both interrupted when they heard Lancelot bellow below them.

"How can you stand idly by and let them do this! Arthur stop! Arthur!" The bellowing got louder.

The other man kept walking and Lancelot kept following repeating himself with louder and louder yells. Delaney rolled her eyes and gathered her skirts, "I need to go calm him down."

"You are the calm one and he's acting like he's getting punished." Tristan observed.

Delaney gave him a wane smile, "Trust me, I'm anything but calm." With a swoosh of skirt she turned and hurried after the other men. She followed the loud bellows to the round table room and quietly slipped inside. Arthur briefly glanced at her and then back at Lancelot, who was pacing.

"How can Tristan do this? You're the Commander here, Arthur, you rule. Tell these Roman's that they are wrong!"

"We can't afford to have Rome as our enemy."

"Our Enemy? Our Enemy? Rome has always been my enemy. Now they want to hurt her for standing up for another woman. Don't you see how wrong this is?"

"Trust me, Guinevere has told me enough."

"Then listen to your wife."

"I cannot appear weak, Lancelot."

"Why?" The man glared at the sitting Arthur, breathing as if running a marathon.

"Because, Lancelot, if he does, then Rome will see fit to possibly later invade and take what is his. Because they view him as less and not equal. He will become a detested Britian and not an honored Roman commander." Delaney spoke quietly but her voice carried.

"You should be abed."

"So I've been told. But for some odd reason I can't sleep."

"This isn't a joking matter." Lancelot commented grumpily. "Besides, if you hadn't defended Ellen, this wouldn't be happening."

"I am supposed to sit by and watch a woman get raped?"

"No, you wait for a man to come by and help her."

"Well excuse the hell out of me for not waiting for a man to do something that I can do! Hell, I didn't know Tristan was following me, and by the time he had gotten there the act would have been done. Have you ever been raped Lancelot? It's a memory you will never forget. Never! It will haunt you the rest of your life. Every moment you wonder if you could have prevented it. If there was something you could have done to stop it. I didn't want Ellen to suffer from those thoughts. I did what I would have done for anyone."

Her voice rose in decibles til she stopped to get her breath, breathing hard, body trembling. Both men gazing at her as if she suddenly had appeared from no where. "I know those thoughts all to well, I have suffered through them. I couldn't stand idly by." Her voice cracked betraying her emotional state. "I will gladly take the flogging, knowing what I did was right." She traced the images on the table in front of her, smiling she realized it was where Galahad sat. He had carved lush fields with a bright shinning sun and a horse in the distance.

Lancelot came to stand beside her, "Delaney I–"

"Don't, Lancelot. Just don't. If you touch me I – Just don't, please." She knew if he tried to hold her she'd fall apart and become a blubbering mess. She couldn't do that. She kept her head down and didn't meet his eyes.

Lancelot clenched his fists and then turned to Arthur. Feeling utterly powerless. He then yelled, "And then there is Tristan..."

"Do not start in on what you do not know, Lancelot." Arthur growled quietly in warning. Causing both Delaney and Lancelot to look at him in bewilderment. "Lancelot, go. Go to bed, you are upset and drunk. We are all tightly wound and things will not be changed. Just go." Arthur finished quietly, not looking at either of them.

Lancelot looked from Delaney then to Arthur. With a heavy sigh he turned and stalked out, shoulders hunched forward and head hanging. Delaney fought for control. Finally she looked up, staring at the man sitting forlornly across from her.

Arthur looked up at the small blonde woman. "We must seem like barbarians to you."

Delaney shrugged her shoulders. "Every society has their barbaric seeming ways, Arthur."

"I don't wish to watch you flogged but-"

Delaney sat down and held her hand up to silence him, "I do understand, Arthur. As much as I would love to have you come to my defense and protest what I did was not wrong. I understand why you cannot do that and not have Rome your enemy. It's called politics."

They sat in silence. Arthur finally asked, "In your time, do you have such politics?"

Delaney chuckled, "Oh yes. But, in my time it's played a bit differently; yet still the same."

"Women in your time fight?"

"We can yes. But if you are speaking of what I did to Actavius; that was simple self defense."

Arthur nodded, deep in thought. He watched as Delaney rubbed her palms. "You cut yourself on his dagger didn't you?"

Delaney caught herself rubbing at the wounds. Dag had given her salve for them earlier when they were attending to Ellen. "Yeah. Amateur move, but it worked." She stopped her fidgeting for the moment and met his green eyed gaze, "I know it won't change anything. But I hadn't intended to slice his tendon. I just wanted to draw some blood; scare him."

"I know. You did well. You are right about the nightmares, Gwen–" He stopped himself. "You're right."

She nodded and got up, "Well, I'm sure they'll be coming for me soon. I had at least better try and get some sleep." She turned and was walking towards the door.

"Delaney."

She turned, her hand on the door to push it open, "Yes?"

"About Tristan, don't hold this against him."

"Why on earth would I do that?"

"I think he feels he owes me."

Delaney turned and leaned against the door. Waiting to see if he would speak further.

Arthur fidgeted with the mug of wine in front of him, then said, "He has been flogged himself. He was young. Had only been here for two years. The only thing he had from his home; besides his clothes was a beautiful hawk. I guess his dad had given it to him. Anyway, this young stupid roman guard had killed the hawk. Thought it was funny. Tristan went after him. He hit him once, broke his jaw. The other three Roman's strapped him to a wheel and began beating him. He had taken 15 lashes at least when I got there. The others were sparing in the practice field. I had taken a ride that day. Luckily I had. I helped Tristan upon my horse and got him here where Dag could help with him."

He looked up from his lament, "The hawk he has now, I gave to him. The least I could do. These men, what they gave up to come here. What they have given up to stay here. I owe them."

Delaney nodded. "I would never feel Tristan is doing this because he dislikes me Arthur. I don't think that of any of the knights. You forget, I owe you all. You could have left me to freeze to death. Or you could have had your way and treated me no better than a piece of meat." With that she opened the door, and left.


	10. Pound of Flesh Pint of Blood

Disclaimer– I make no money from this, I own nothing save Delaney, I have maybe two penny's to my name and 4 kids, a dog, a cat, three fish, oh and a husband!

A/N Here is your warning. There be violence ahead. Read with caution, although it isn't as graphicly written as it could be... it's graphic enough. You have been warned.

&&&&&&&&&&&

Ailis-70–Oh Beta Goddess of mine... I know I tormented you with this chapter; and for that I am

Sorry. However, without your help I doubt it could be what it is now.

Cardeia–Oh how I enjoy your reviews! Suppose away. Yes, this part was hard, but had to be

Done. I hope it lives up to your expectations.

Gryphon55–So nice to have a new reviewer! Glad you like the story. Hope you still like it after This.

Pirate–As you will find out, there is no way out, just to move on. Hope you like.

Knightmaiden–Here's your answer. Yes, Tristan needs a companion that isn't a hawk. If not in This story maybe a sequel.

Tristanlover–Here is your update!

Lancelot watched as they escorted Delaney to the pole. She didn't meet any of their gazes when she was walked out, her eyes were only for Actavius and Casius. The Roman's made comments and leered. Lancelot gasped when she tripped and was helped none to gently up. Her hands tied as if they were scared she'd find a way to bloody them all. They had her stand in the middle of the circle, just before the pole she would be tied to.

Casius came up and ripped her shirt none to gently down the middle, leaving it in rags hanging from her arms and flapping in the breeze like low hung wings. An audible gasp could be heard and Delaney almost smirked. It helped to show false confidence than to scream psychotically. The crowd could now defiantly see that she had already been marked once. Brent had carved a large letter "B" into her back with a jagged piece of glass. Maybe Casius wouldn't find such pleasure in her punishment now that he realized he wasn't the first to have her marked. He roughly groped her large breasts. Delaney all the while stared at Actavius, jaw clenched.

Lancelot clenched his fists, Gawain placed a hand upon his shoulder. "It will be worse if you do anything, my friend. For her sake, we must sit back and watch and remember." Lancelot nodded once in acknowledgment.

Tristan looked on. His eyes of flint watching the blonde haired woman stand proudly while the Romans tried to humiliate her. If she could do that with such bravado than he could do his part, so nothing else happened to either of them. His face cold and immobile, the flagellum clutched in his hand. Waiting.

Two of the Roman guards bound her to the pole, her hands placed high above her head; forcing her to stand upon her tip toes.

Bors and Vanora stood off to the side, Vanora softly sobbing into Bor's shoulder. Dagonet stood with Lancelot, Gawain, Kensey, Guinevere and Arthur. Guinevere and Kensey murmuring words of comfort into each other's ears.

Delaney rested her forehead against the pole and prayed. The only prayer that she could remember was Hail Mary from church. She took a deep breath and stole herself away, careful to not tense. She knew in the end if you tensed it hurt worse in the long run. She heard Tristan walk up. She sucked in a deep breath and then felt the first lash land. She clenched her hands together and buried her face into her arm, all the while repeating "Hail Mary full of grace..." He found a rhythm and she bit into her arm. She wasn't counting. Every time the lash fell, her body jerked involuntarily. Her back was on fire. She squeezed her eyes shut, reciting her mantra. The lashes hitting against her back. She could smell the metallic scent of her own blood and the bile rose in throat. She gritted her teeth refusing to give these Roman's the pleasure of seeing her stand in her own vomit. Her last flash of thought before she finally blacked out was "maybe I won't have that damn B etched into my back now"

Tristan watched as the lashes of knotted leather cut through her skin. He clenched his jaw further to keep the bile from gagging him. He had promised this woman they would not hurt her. Yet, what was he doing? He felt a presence next to him. He glanced from the corner of his eye, Casius stood next to him.

"Do you need me to do it, Sarmatian? You're merely tickling her!"

Tristan gritted his teeth and began to exert more force. He locked eyes with Lancelot over Delaney's bent head. He thought for sure he'd see hate in the dark knight's eyes, instead he saw the man shedding silent tears, staring stoically at Tristan. They were silent witnesses to the last of the tyranny of Rome. Tristan felt his eyes burn he would not cry. He would shed tears later for Laney, but not for Rome. Not for himself. He noticed his hawk circle over head. He took a deep breath and finished the task. He let the flagellum fall to the ground, his hand unable to hold it any longer. Delaney was hanging by her hands, slumped against the pole; unconscious.

Casius was laughing jovially and pointing while talking to Actavius who leered at the slouched woman.

Bors and Gawain untied her limp body and Dagonet picked her up like nothing more than a child. All of them followed in a somber procession, save for Lancelot. He came to Tristan. He came over to the scout and squeezed his arm. "I was wrong." He muttered and then went through the doorway that the others had just disappeared through.

&&&

Delaney awoke, her back afire. Her eyes slowly drifted open taking in the dimly lit room. Quickly they fluttered closed as another wave of pain washed over her. She bit her lip, muffling her sob. Whomever was blotting her face with the cool cloth stopped. Next thing she knew she was staring into the brown hawk like eyes of Tristan. "Dag is cleansing the wounds."

She closed her eyes in acknowledgment and relaxed her body as much as she could. Every once in awhile a hiss made it's way out of her clenched teeth. Tristan once again squatted in front of her. She slowly opened her eyes to meet his gaze. "I told you–" he began.

Delaney read the guilt in his somber gaze. She laid her finger softly against his chapped lips, "You had no control over this Tristan. I do not blame you. I am to blame for forcing you into this position." Her finger fell away as she tensed.

"Tensing will make it worse."

"I know." She croaked, her eyes fluttering shut once again. It took all of her concentration to not elude Dagonet's skilled hands. He was cleansing the wounds with what she assumed must be a concoction of herbs and boiling water.

"I'm sorry, Delaney."

"It's okay, Dag," she managed. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. She heard Tristan move and her eyes came lazily open. She saw Tristan grasp Lancelot's arm as he handed his fellow knight the damp cloth. She managed a weak smile for the curly haired knight. One which he didn't return. Instead he stared upon her with eyes of amber glass. He reached for her hands and took them in his own in a death grip, laying butterfly kisses upon her knuckles. He then pulled back and continued to stare.

"Please, do not look upon me like that." Delaney swallowed hard as her voice cracked.

"How else am I too look upon you?" His voice was raspy.

"If you cry, Lancelot, I swear I'll start and never stop."

"Would that be so wrong?"

"For you to cry? No. For me? I don't cry." She closed her eyes, blinking back tears that threatened to fall. She knew she had a right to cry, but she refused to cry in front of a man. Even one such as Lancelot.

He continued to stare at her. His heart welling with such emotion. She hadn't cried out once. She had stood as tall as she could until finally her body couldn't handle it anymore and she had passed out. This woman was as brave if not more so than any of them. "I should have stopped it." He finally lamented.

"Why? So you could be the one up there getting flogged? I couldn't handle that."

"How do you think I feel?"

"I have no answer for that, Lancelot." She rubbed her fingers across his knuckles, sucking in a quick breath as Dagonet found an especially tender spot to cleanse. "I'm utterly worn out, Lancelot." She sighed, hoping sleep would claim her and take her away from the pain.

Lancelot gently rubbed his thumb against her cheekbone, "Go to sleep, Laney. Go to sleep." She laid her head down upon their entwined hands and finally drifted off.

Delaney awoke to a darkened room lit with a single candle. She watched the dancing flame for a moment, gathering her resources before she moved. She lifted her head and gasped. Pain lanced through her and caused a soft sob to escape. Lancelot immediately was there, "You're okay." He whispered as he blotted her face with a damp cloth. He brought the candle closer and looked at her back. "I'll be back, Dagonet needs to change your bandages."

"I'll be here." She whispered. Lancelot smiled and kissed her temple. Moments later he returned with Dagonet. Dagonet took off the bandages and dropped them into what looked to be a bushel basket. They smelled to high heaven. "Infected, Dag?" Delaney asked hoarsely.

"It appears so."

"I was afraid of that. I doubt they sterilized the lashes before hitting people with them." She caught her breath as one of the bandages stuck and Dagonet had no choice but to force it off. "How's, Ellen?"

"Shaken, but fine. She likes flowers."

Delaney smiled. Lancelot looked worriedly at her back. "Come on, can't be that horrible."

"Do you have any idea what it looks like when someone has been whipped?"

"I always tried to avoid those scenes." Delaney said as she sucked in a quick breath.

"How can you make jokes at a time like this?" He looked at her grumpily.

"Would you rather have me cracking jokes or screaming?"

"Screaming."

"Why?"

"It would be normal." He looked on worriedly as Dag took the rags from her back.

"Not for me."

"You don't have to be strong around me, Delaney. It's okay to admit you're in pain."

"I'm not cracking jokes for you, Lancelot. It's for me. It's how I cope. Besides, why state the obvious? Of course I'm in pain."

Dagonet had finally finished with all of the bandages and came around to look at her. "They're becoming infected, Laney."

"What do you want to do?"

"I could wash them out again with boiling water and herbs and see if that helps.."

"If it doesn't?"

"Cauterization is a possibility." He answered matter-of-factly.

"Oh no, you are not putting hot steel to my back."

"Delaney, if that's what it takes we will do it. I will not have you die because your wounds get infected." Lancelot stated gruffly.

Delaney chose to ignore him, "Dag, are there any springs round here that smell like rotten eggs?"

"Yes."

"If cleansing the affected area doesn't help I can go and take a dip in the hot springs. Chances are they have sulphur and that will kill the infection. I don't think I"m moving anywhere soon. Let us try boiling the water and cleaning them out."

"It's going to be painful, Laney, I'll try to be as gentle as possible." He looked at her sympathetically.

"I know you will Dagonet. I know you will." Dagonet left to go get the water. Lancelot squatted down in front of her staring at her as he clasped her hands with his own.

"I have to go, Delaney, Arthur needs us." Lancelot regarded her wearily.

"I know, Lancelot. I will be fine." It hurt to look at the emotion in the dark Knights eyes. "Quit looking at me like that, Lancelot, you will break me." She whispered. She didn't want him to go either, but it was his duty. She would not pout like some love struck school girl.

"I don't want to go." He gulped for air. He was feeling as if his heart were being torn in two. He had never felt that way before. His duty was his duty, after all he was a knight. Is this how Bors felt whenever he had to leave Vanora?

"We both knew you had to before all of this." She answered soothingly. Running her fingers across his hands.

"I'm fearful you will take sick because of it." Her eyes were a lovely twilight blue. The blue of the sky at night. He would take that with him while they were gone.

"I won't let myself." She answered assuredly.

"You can't stop it." He replied matter of factly.

"I can try." She gave a small smile, and tried to roll onto her side. She ended up panting and gasping for air. "Well that wasn't one of my brightest ideas was it?"

"Lie still." He scolded.

"There is a problem with that, " she quipped.

"What?" He raised his eyebrows.

"I need to go to the bathroom." She answered quietly, a soft smile fluttering across her mouth.

"Ahh. And you can't make it down the hall to the latrina." Lancelot stood and walked to a corner in the room, he came back with a chamber pot. Which he set next to the bed. "If I help support you it should work."

Delaney's eyes were huge as she eyed Lancelot first, then the clay pot that was set next to his bare foot, his toes curling over the edge. "Lancelot, if you think I'm going to go pee while you're 'supporting' me you have got to be kidding! I do have some sense of decorum."

"You need help, it's okay." Lancelot stopped playing with the chamber pot. He took Delaney by the hand.

"Maybe for you. But I draw the line at letting a man watch me pee." She would muster all the strength she had left to pee by herself.

Lancelot coughed as he tried not to laugh. "Tristan did."

Laney pulled away. Too fast as her back started to hurt again. "He said he didn't look!"

"He turned away after realizing what you were going to do. But he did make mention that you had on a strange colored under clothing neath your trews."

Delaney laughed, causing another pull on her back. "You told me to quit joking around but it's okay for you to?"

"I don't see what the big deal is."

"I haven't done anything but kiss you and you are now offering to help me with a very private bodily function."

"So if we'd have had sex you wouldn't have any problem?"

"I didn't say that."

"I'd offer to remedy that problem but you have to go pee and sex would be no fun in your condition."

"I should hit you for that."

"Please?" He smirked, his eyes still guarded. He was trying to make the mood light. He wanted to help her. If that meant helping her with as she put it "a very private bodily function" so be it.

"Lancelot, please, don't make me laugh, I do have to pee." Delaney had her hands wrapped around her sides.

"You aren't going to let me help are you?" He sighed, in exasperation and helplessness.

"No. You can leave and wait in the hall so that way Dagonet doesn't barge in here either."

"You're stubborn."

"So I've been told." She replied, not moving.

"I'll give you a moment, but then I'm coming back." He shook his finger at her as if scolding a small child.

"That's all I'll need."

He left. Delaney stared at the chamber pot. What she wouldn't give for a private bathroom!


	11. The Road to Recovery

Ailis-70–My faithful beta who suffered torment to help me with this chapter... Mucho thanks.

Gryphon55–So nice to see you enjoying it still. Hope this chapter keeps your Attention.

Pirate-I couldn't have her escape. Just wouldn't be right. It is a small Turning point, however, more things are going on besides romance.

Tristanlover–Yes the chapter was sad, but had to be done. Hope you like the Update.

Knightmaiden–I know he does. Wait and see, in the meantime, hope you like the

Update.

A/N same disclaimers apply. I have no money, make no money, own nothing except Delaney and the crazy idea.

Lancelot watched her sleep. It wasn't restful, but thanks to the concoction that Dagonet had made her drink, the pain wouldn't wake her. He gently brushed the hair away from her eyes, savoring the silkiness of it against his calloused finger tips. He sighed wistfully.

"We must be going, Lancelot." Tristan stated as he walked over to the bed. Looking down at the sleeping woman. He shook his head, "Such a brave one." He muttered.

Lancelot looked up at his friend. "Brave and foolish."

"Would you have done any different?" Tristan asked raising an eyebrow.

"No."

"Exactly." Tristan continued to stare at her back. Blood was still seeping into the bandages.

"She forgives you, Tristan."

"I know, but do I forgive myself?" With that he walked out, pausing in the doorway, "It's time, Lancelot." With that the scout left.

Lancelot stared a moment more, then reached into his overtunic. He pulled out the mouse that his sister had given him all those years ago and laid it gently next to Delaney's outstretched palm. He shook his head, here he was leaving gifts for a woman, usually they left trophies for him to find. He smirked at that, ran his hand delicately across her brow and kissed the crown of her head. Then he turned to go and found himself almost running over Guinevere.

"She'll be okay, Lancelot."

"I can hope."

Guinevere queried an eyebrow at him. "Did I just hear you say hope? I remember a knight not so long ago that said he didn't believe in such a thing."

"Things change."

"Yes, they do. Sometimes for the better." She sat down in the chair that he had vacated, "I'll look after her. I promise."

"If she turns for the worse have your father heal her. He helped me, maybe he can work his magic on her."

"It isn't Magic." Guinevere said disdainfully. "It's knowledge of herbs and nature."

"Whatever it is, let him help. I fear she could die."

"She could, but she won't." Guinevere smiled at the knight.

He paused a moment looked from one face to the other, then left quickly.

0o0o0o

Delaney awoke. She slowly opened her eyes. There was something upon the pillow, close to her hand. She picked it up and smiled, it was a small carved mouse. It was quite worn around the edges. She knew it was from Lancelot. He had made mention to her, when he thought she was already asleep that his sister had given it to him when he left to come here. He had told her all about his sister, lulled her to sleep with his voice telling of playing hide and seek with the little girl. She caressed it with her hand and smiled.

"I see you're awake."

Delaney quickly looked up following the direction where the voice had come. A man, with longish brown hair and mustache sprinkled with gray sat in the corner. A long carved walking stick braced against the wall in front of him.

"Who are you?"

He smiled kindly, leaning forward so that she didn't have to strain her neck.

"I am Merlin, perhaps Guinevere made mention of me."

"You're her father?"

"As I am yours."

"Pardon?"

"I'm sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself. Do you mind if I check your wounds?"

"If you must."

"I believe I can help." He walked over and gently lifted the bandages that Dagonet had placed on them after cleansing them with scalding hot water. Lancelot had held her hands through it all, soothing her when it hurt so much she almost couldn't draw breath. Merlin placed the linens in with the other ones. "This will sting, but it will kill the infection. I will need new bandages for you."

"Are you using sulphur?"

"Yes, sulphur powder."

"I thought that may be what would have to be used."

"I see you have adjusted well."

"Adjusted to what?"

"This time and place." He again sat down, "We will wait for Guinevere to come with a cup of tea and fresh bandages." He leaned forward studying her, "So much like your mother you are. Such beautiful eyes."

"My mother had green eyes."

"Not your biological mother from your time, Delaney, but the woman who bore your soul, the first time you started on the wheel of life."

"Excuse me?"

"You and Guinevere are sisters, half sisters, but sisters all the same."

"Riight."

"Will you listen to the tale with an open mind? Is it so hard to comprehend that you belong here? You who one moment were in 2005 and the next here in 425?"

"Good point. I'll listen, but don't ask me to believe it."

"You be the judge of what is to be believed and what isn't." He settled himself. "Guinevere, was a year old, when you were born. Her mother, Nienive had passed away in child birth. I met a woman, who reminded me of Nienive, her name Morgana. She was the only mother Guinevere ever knew. She had a brilliant mind, always thirsting for knowledge. I admit, it stroked my ego to know this beautiful young lady much rather spend time with me than with the young men her own age. I wasn't yet leader of the Woads, I was their healer and much more and yet nothing. Anyway, we had you. Once you were weaned, Morgana left. A letter was left stating that she had no other choice that she worried she would be your death. I have the sight and never did I foresee any harm coming to you. But, Morgana was more powerful than I in that particular area. So, I bundled you up and took you to a Viking encampment that I knew about at the far north. They were farmers, having settled here after trade expeditions began between the Norse and the Picts and even some Woads. They are very similar to us, even if they are different. They took you in and as generations came and went, you were reincarnated over and over. Until your soul found itself in the states with a wonderful family. Your parents loved you dearly." He smiled at her, "Yes, I kept an eye on you through the times. Then I saw you, driving down that road way and you swerved to miss me. I knew it was time to bring you back."

Delaney regarded him, he seemed sound of mind. Grant it, it was the best explanation for her ending up back here as any. But all of this about reincarnation and Guinevere being her sister she was still having a problem grasping. She was still contemplating what questions to ask when her door came open. Guinevere came bustling in with a handful of what looked to be clean rags and a pot of water and Ellen came timidly behind carrying a tray of fruits and a small loaf of bread.

"I have the bandages you asked for, father." Guinevere stated as she came over to the man. They then exchanged places. Merlin standing off to the side and sprinkling the sulphur powder along the many cuts in her back. Ellen had set the tray down on a table near the window and stood watching, her face ghostly pale.

"Ellen why don't you come sit here with Guinevere so we can all talk while Merlin puts on new bandages." Delaney suggested. Ellen almost scurried over to them, sitting on the floor.

"That's because you saved me isn't it? I should have let him hurt me." Sorrow and regret graced her voice.

Guinevere hugged the girl to her and Delaney reached for her hand, "Ellen, no man has a right to force himself on a woman. I'll heal. I'll be fine." She sucked in a quick breath, grasping for the headboard as she buried her face into the mattress. Guinevere rubbed Delaney's knuckles. "I heard you like flowers." Delaney mumbled into the mattress.

"Yes, I love to grow things. Dagonet was giving me suggestions on how to plant seeds for harvest in the fall."

"I have a favor to ask then. When you come in here with my bath, could you put some lavender or lilac petals in the water? Those are my favorite scents."

"Of course I will. I could leave a sprig upon your pillow as well."

"Oh you don't have to do that."

"But I would want to."

"Dagonet likes apple blossoms." Laney said conspirally.

Ellen blushed and smiled. "I didn't know that, thank you."

"No problem."

Guinevere sighed and looked at the two women, "I miss them."

"Yes, life is boring without them."

"I just worry."

Delaney looked up at her. She worried to. She wasn't about to let herself think about it. "Once I get healed, do you think we could go to the archery range? I'd like to work on that. I used to be fairly good in college, but that's been awhile."

"College?"

"School."

"Okay. Yes, I can help you with that."

"Good."

"We need to get some clothes made for you."

"I'm happy with pants. I don't see any reason why I need to always wear a dress."

"I can get you some leathers that we wear." Guinevere offered.

"That would be fine, as long as I don't have to run around in a confounded dress anymore than usual!"

"I believe Lancelot liked you in your dresses."

"I know he did, but the point is I prefer pants. Especially if Gawain is going to teach me to ride."

"You have a point. The way you speak of your success on horseback we don't need you falling off and showing your wears to everyone."

"So true, so very true."

Merlin came and stood next to the women, "I am done Delaney. I shall be back later to check upon you. I suggest we leave Delaney alone for now and let her rest."

"I'm not tired."

"You will be, have your tea. Sleep helps to make you strong."

Delaney awoke with a start, then after a moment remembered where she was. She felt hands upon her back and turned to look over her shoulder.

"Are you trying to make it worse for you, Ambrosia?" Merlin scolded gently as he put fresh bandages onto her back. They had been soaked in water from the sulphur springs.

Delaney laid her head back down, and closed her eyes. If she kept them open she would try to look at Merlin while they spoke and end up giving herself a headache. "Ambrosia?"

Merlin finished with the bandages and once again sat down in front of Delaney. "The name Morgan picked out for you."

When Delaney heard his voice directly in front of her she opened her eyes and stared at the man. The flames from the fireplace making intricate shadow patterns upon his bearded face. Delaney couldn't help but chuckle. Ambrosia, nectar of the gods. She smirked, Lancelot may think so... she mustn't think like that. He had showed concern, and worry. It did not mean that he wanted anything more from her than a tryst. "Why did Morgan think she would cause my end?"

"So you do believe." Merlin leaned forward and smiled at her.

"It's not that I believe exactly, it's just that I don't totally disbelieve either."

"Always the information gatherer. Sometimes, you need to just leap and not worry about the questions."

Delaney shook her head. It was useless to argue. Merlin wasn't the first to tell her this, heck she had been trying to tell herself that very thing. "How is my back?"

"It's going to take awhile to heal. You will have scars, obviously. But you should not have to worry about them cauterizing it. The infection seems to be gone, and I'm making sure of it with this set of bandages. I may have Gwen take you down to the springs in a few days to keep the infection away."


	12. May the Force be with you

Imortalwizardpirateelf-fan– You will see what all Guinevere does know and Doesn't know in coming chapters. Along with the Reactions of the knights and especially Lancelot And Tristan.

Winged Seraph–So glad you like this story. Hope you like your update as well.

Ailis-70–I'll flesh out Tristan's and Delaney's relationship more as the story Goes on. I must even keep secrets from my beta (mwha ha ha ha)and Ahh the bath tub... I don't think I shall take a bath without Thinking of that scene again...

Pirate–Delaney hasn't quite decided what she thinks of Merlin. I mean if what He says is true then how does he know that he didn't totally foul up Everything?

Tristanlover–So good to see you coming back for more. Hope you enjoy this

Update as well!

Sophie–Welcome to my story! Always glad to see fresh faces as well as old Friends! I like Delaney because she is flawed and I hope very human.

Vampiress66613–-Thank you so much for enjoying this story. I hope I continue To entice you to read!

Brooke1sg–- I hope I can continue to keep you hooked! Enjoy the update!

And if there are any reviewers I am missing I'm sorry. I appreciate you all taking the time and reading this!

Disclaimer– Own? I can dream right? No infringement. Promise to put them back in as good of shape as I found them. Delaney, is mine all mine and nothing but mine!

Delaney was finally able to stand wearing lose clothing. Vanora had made some Roman style dresses for her to wear. Although they were nice, she felt naked under them. She smirked, she was naked underneath them. Any stretching movement and she had to learn how to breath.

Merlin had fashioned a walking stick for her. She lovingly traced a hand upon it. There was a hawk at the top of the stick, it's wings wrapped to the back of the stick. Further down were the profiles of the knights. Tristan's braid fell into Gawain's lion's main. Then ends of the lion's mane twined into Galahad's short wavy hair which barely brushed the scarred head of Dagonet. The man had even managed to capture the giant's gentle yet serious stare. Dag blended into Bors, who's head was resting upon Vanora's and they ended into Lancelot's profile, with the one unruly curl that twisted upon his forehead. He was looking at Arthur who blended into a Dragon crest and beneath the crest was Guinevere, a full on portrait. Her wavy hair outlining her face, her eyes looking up; right at Delaney. How the man had carved such detail into a stick that was only 3 inches around, she didn't know.

She heard a knock on the door and walked stiffly to it. She opened it to find Guinevere looking at her, smiling.

"I see you are finally up and around."

"They say time heals all wounds." She stepped out of the way to let her in.

"Let's go to the Tavern and keep Vanora company today; get you out of your room." Guinevere studied the woman a moment, "That is, if it's okay with you."

"Frankly, I'm tired of seeing these same stone walls."

"Okay then." Guinevere led Delaney out into the fresh air.

&&&&&

They were all seated at a wooden table. Vanora had brought them wine and bread; her brood following behind. Leaving again, she returned with a tray of fruit and cheeses and had gotten the children situated at the next table with their own foods.

Vanora was eying Delaney silently. Unable to hide the questions she had mulling inside her head.

Delaney caught her look and sighed, "Out with it Van before you hurt yourself."

Vanora reached across the table and clasped her hand. "I don't mean to pry, lass, but I've been wondering, and since you're finally well enough to actually talk and not caught up in fever..." Her voice trailed off, unable to get it out.

"Van, just cut to the chase, please." Delaney said with a tired smile.

"I am prattling on, aren't I? Anyway, how did you get that mark in your back?"

"My ex husband took a shard of glass and decided to carve his initial into me to show who I belonged too. He wasn't a very trusting sort. He thought I was out with other men when he was at work."

"He branded you?" She was appalled.

"No better than a Roman." Guinevere spat.

"Worse, I'm afraid." Delaney finished her meal in silence.

&&&&&

"You know, Lancelot would never treat you that way. He loves to have all the women falling all over him, but he wouldn't do that." Guinevere said out of the blue when most of the food had vanished.

"Yes I know about him and his wiley ways." Delaney said with a fond smirk. She had found herself missing Lancelot more than she cared to admit to herself.

Vanora decided to put her two cents in. "Honestly, lass, since the fighting hasn't been going on, he hasn't been dilly dallying as you put it. He seems to be more to himself, almost as much as that scout."

Delaney didn't look at the women. "I see." She felt herself suddenly uncomfortable; not that these women meant her any discomfort. She was uncomfortable at the subject. Her feelings for Lancelot not yet sorted out.

"I haven't seen him take time out for feminine company since Bandon Hill." Guinevere insisted, doing her best to try and paint Lancelot as a changed man.

"Ladies, I feel like you're trying to tell me something but I haven't quite figured out what."

"Lancelot likes you." Vanora and Guinevere both said in a rush.

"A lot." Ellen added as she sat next to Vanora. She handed Delaney a piece of paper, "I found this in his chamber when I went into clean it after they left.

Delaney took it and gasped. He had drawn her when she had been talking with Tristan. He caught her profile complete with the full moon in the background. She had a very serious look upon her face. This must have been from the first night when she couldn't sleep. She looked questioningly at Ellen.

It was a talent she didn't know Lancelot had.

"No, he doesn't sketch that often."

"I haven't seen him sketch since he was just a young pup." Vanora commented. "He seemed to stop once he took his first life in one of the scuffles with the Woads."

Delaney absorbed the information. They were saying he had a thing for her. She knew she had a thing for him. But was he just infatuated with the whole stranger in a strange land concept. Or did he really like her? She hadn't felt this confused since highschool!

Vanora's kids were starting to become loud and obnoxious, someone fighting over something. Vanora stood up, grabbing the empty trays, "I guess I need to find a way of entertaining these heathens!"

"Do you have things that need to get done?" Delaney asked. Then she mentally kicked herself. Of course she does! A woman with this many children and a tavern to look after always had tons of stuff to do.

"I need to be cleaning and getting ready for tonight's crowd, but I have nothing for these brats to do."

"Tell you what, since I'm really not able to do much of anything, why don't I tell a story and maybe you can get something done?"

"Oh that would be wonderful, Laney!"

"Okay." She turned the loud group of kids, "Hey, do you want to hear a story or do you want to muck out the stalls?"

"Story!" Gilley called.

"Okay then, I need you all to be quiet so I don't hurt my voice by having to talk over you." She was using her hands to try and quiet the bouncing children.

"Does it have fighting?" Asked one of the boys.

"Big battles!" Cried Gilly and loud murmurs of expected fighting scenes started.

Delaney raided her hand. "Tell you what, it has all of that and more. But you must sit quietly until I'm done, okay?"

All of them nodded. Guinevere sat impatiently waiting. "Would you get on with it, Laney?"

Delaney chuckled. How to begin? She took a deep breathe, "A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away..."

"What's a galaxy?"

"It's a star system."

"What's a star system?"

Delaney sighed, smiling. "Let us pretend that this takes place on one of those many stars you see at night."

"Okay." All of the children nodded, their attention focused solely on Delaney as she began her story.

"Anyway... in a galaxy far, far away..."

&&&&&

"And Luke put his father on the funeral pyre and lit it, thankful that his dad had come back to him and he had found his sister. The end." Delaney finished with a flourish and plopped down on the nearest bench.

"Bravo!" Vanora clapped. She had sat down next to Gilly. "That was brilliant!"

"I didn't write it, it's just one of my favorite stories."

"So he started out good, went bad, and because of the love of his son turned good again?" Guinevere asked.

"Basically yes."

"You need to tell us another one."

"Oh no, not today. I don't think my voice would hold up."

Guinevere nodded, noticing the flushed and exhausted look Delaney had on her face. The woman was in need of some fresh air.

"Would you like to go for a walk Delaney? I can show you where the practice grounds are, for when you are able to shoot a bow again."

"That would be great, Guinevere. I need to try and move otherwise I'll get too stiff and well, it won't be fun." Guinevere nodded in agreement.

&&&&&

They had walked all over the fort, Guinevere showed Delaney where the bath was. As Delaney ran her hand over the intricately fitted stone Guinevere quietly added, "Maybe you and Lancelot should come here once he gets home. You can help him wash the grime from the road."

"Oh yeah, along with all the other knights. I know how Roman baths work, I don't think so."

"Maybe you could have Ellen have a bath waiting for the two of you."

"Aren't you being a wee bit presumptuous? You're talking like they are coming home soon."

Guinevere motioned for Delaney to follow her outside and then she pointed up. There, in the clear sky circled a hawk. Delaney grinned as she felt her stomach knot in anticipation. "That isn't–"

"Oh yes, that's Tristan's hawk. They're coming."

Just then shouts of 'riders' came from along the wall. With a quick glance at each other they hurried up the stairs of the wall and peered out. Sure enough, 7 men came riding from the south. Delaney felt her heart skip a beat. She and Guinevere exchanged glances and watched as they neared. Ellen soon joined them, ringing her hands. She whispered, "I left an apple blossom in his room. Do you think I'm being overly assuming?"

Guinevere and Delaney exchanged a knowing glance. "Not in the least." Ellen grinned and they all watched. Delaney was wiping hair out of her face and commented. "Oh, if only I had time to take a bath." She could feel the stickiness and dirt on her fingers.

"Laney, they've been gone several days. On the road. Do you think they care?"

"True. Okay I may want to have Lancelot have a bath then."

"You could always take one together." Guinevere said with a smirk.

"We've only just kissed!"

"Uh huh," She clearly didn't believe her. "That's why a bath would be so good!"

Delaney blushed a deep crimson and Ellen and Guinevere chuckled. Soon Kensey joined them along with Vanora. "I hope all is well. I counted seven." Vanora exclaimed, her voice just a bit out of breath from running up the stone steps.

Kensey watched. "I don't know, do they all look like they're sitting upright?"

"Yes, Kensey, they all look fine, just fine." Vanora patted the girl on the arm. She turned to Ellen, "Did you get that apple blossom on Dag's pillow?" The girl nodded shyly. "That leaves only Galahad and Tristan without a girl. Someday we'll have to remedy that."

Vanora, Kensey, and Guinevere hurried down to greet the riders. Ellen and Delaney held back. Delaney tried for an air of nonchalance but found she was having problems not fidgeting. Her heart was throbbing against her breast bone and a dozen butterflies seemed to have taken residence in her stomach. She watched as Lancelot rode in, shortly behind Arthur. Arthur had quickly dismounted and spun Guinevere around in his arms while laying a passionate kiss upon her lips. Vanora and Bors greeted each other similarly. Kensey and Gawain were blocked from her view by Dagonet, who dismounted, handed his horse's reigns to Ganis and waved at Ellen when he saw her. The girl's smile almost outshone the sun. Delaney nudged her and she timidly walked over to Dagonet.

Delaney put her hand over her eyes, and watched as they seemed to converse quietly amongst themselves. She smiled triumphantly when they walked away, close together still talking.

"And why are you so pleased?" Lancelot asked quietly, his breath tickling her ear as he gently drew her back against him.

Delaney felt her body shiver as she turned and looked up at him, barely concealing the delighted squeal that escaped her lips. She rose on tip toe and kissed him upon the lips, then quickly pulled away, shocked by her actions.

"That's all the welcome I get?" Lancelot said with a chuckle; his eyes sparkling. He then placed his hands on either side of her face and tasted her lips as if she were a vessel containing the finest of wines, drinking slowly and deeply. When they parted she was breathless and he was grinning and slightly panting. "There, that's better!"

Delaney couldn't form words. Her mind had suddenly gone to mush; only able to feel and burn. She nodded mutely. Lancelot grinned roguishly, "I have left you speechless? With just a kiss? Wait until I show you my other tricks!" He grabbed her hand and they walked down the corridor.

Delaney, finally able to form sentences commented, "I hope you don't plan on showing me those 'other tricks' as you put it til you've had a bath!"

"Care to bathe me?" He would have looked dead serious if it weren't for the impish grin.

"You are a grown man, you can bathe yourself."

"I'll wash your back if you'll wash mine."

"Which means no washing would get done." Delaney smirked herself.

He chuckled. They had come to his door and he paused. "Seriously, I want to wash this grime and muck off. I'll be to your chambers after I'm done."

Delaney felt giddy as a school girl with her first crush. "I'll be waiting."


	13. Bath and Beyond

Usual disclaimer applies. I own nothing, I make nothing, etc.

A/N–I don't know if I need to warn anyone, but just in case, some sensuality in this piece. Also, I normally don't post back to back but thought I should treat my wonderful reviewers and hope you like my attempt at sensually charismatic scenes!

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

When Delaney did get to her chambers she found a bath drawn and ready. Complete with lavender sprinkled into the water and sprigs of lilac placed along the mantel and upon her pillow. She shook her head, how had Ellen had time for all this? She slipped out of her dirty clothes and slowly sat down into the tub, letting the hot water seep into her sore muscles. She Used a bit of the shampoo to take the dirt out of her hair. Completely submerging to get the suds out of her hair, she resurfaced and leaned her head back against the tub and sighed.

She felt hands trail down her arms into the water and jerked her eyes open, quickly leaning forward at the same time. The lost contact of those hands leaving her skin cold.

"It is only me." Came a hushed whisper next to her ear.

Delaney quickly turned around to look at him.

Lancelot had on a dark blue tunic which managed to bring out his eyes even more. His hair lay in damp curls across his forehead. He leaned over further and captured her lips tenderly in his own. While at the same time running a hand across her shoulders, kneading the muscles of her arms. A gasp escaped between their lips. Lancelot pulled away slightly and rested his head upon her forehead as his hand idly ran up and down her arms. A soft smile lit her face.

Lancelot noticed that smile. "Let me wash you." He commanded huskily.

"I already did." Was her quiet murmur.

He grinned, "Not like I can."

Delaney regarded him. There was nothing blatantly sexual about his words, but the manner in which they were uttered set her blood afire and her heart thundering. She gulped, only able to nod.

Lancelot couldn't help the chuckle that escaped, "You act as if it may be painful."

"It's not that." Delaney was trying to reign in the desire pounding in her veins. And so far was failing to do so.

Lancelot moved to the side so he could better look at her face. Concern evident in the crease between his eyes, "What is it then? What's happened?"

Delaney caressed his cheek with her hand, "Silly, knight. Don't look as if I've shunned you." She leaned forward, tipping him on the nose. "There is a slight problem of my back."

She braced herself. She knew he'd be angry only because he hadn't been there. It had gotten infected. Merlin had saved her. But the scars told the story of the infection.

Lancelot looked at her back and felt his stomach knot. He gripped the side of the tub and set his jaw. Anger flared through him like white hot fire. "How long?"

Delaney held herself stiffly, she knew he wasn't angry with her, but angry at being helpless and not here. "I was sick for a few days. I've been fine the past three. I even was out and about today with Guinevere."

Without another word, Lancelot gently took the cloth in his hand and washed the scabbing wounds. Every once in awhile he would dip the cloth into the water and start on a new area to cleanse.

Delaney closed her eyes and relaxed at his soothing touch. Never had she been so gently cared for by another man save Dagonet. She heard him get up, and rested her head against her legs. She then felt him pouring fresh hot water into the tub and she continued to keep her eyes closed and relaxing against her knees.

Lancelot felt the water cooling as he finished cleaning the last of her many wounds. They weren't oozing puss anymore but the scabs were yellow. He was thankful she hadn't looked at him since he started his gentle ministrations. She would have seen the tears running down his face and he didn't know if he could handle her seeing his vulnerable side. He got up and retrieved the last of the kettles of hot water from the hearth and poured it in. He then climbed in behind her, just wanting to hold her.

Delaney jumped as she felt him slide down behind her. Desire started rearing its unsated head. She felt him wrap his arms about her, hugging her carefully to him, his legs on either side of her. Holding her completely. She leaned her head back against his shoulder and looked up at him, a smile trembling upon her lips.

His dark eyes looked down upon hers, they glistened with tears. Tears she knew he had cried because his black eyelashes held them like fine dew drops. She reached up to caress his cheek and he clasped her hand, taking her fingers into his mouth. She gasped at the sensation. He then placed her hand upon his whisker stubbled cheek. He watched her eyes go twilight blue as he trailed his hand from her wrist across her elbow and up to her shoulder. He watched her nostrils flare when his fingers traced the column of her neck and over the shell of her ear and then rested against her cheek.

Lancelot felt as if someone had a fist around his heart. He had shed tears for fallen comrades but not for his own pain. This woman caused him to remember he was human. Something that right now, he very much wanted to be, so that he was worthy of her. He hadn't lied when he said he would take whatever she was willing to give. He had thought that he wouldn't have to give anything back. She didn't ask, yet he was offering it all. He felt a gentle kiss to his palm and inhaled sharply.

Delaney smiled mischievously, "Turn about is fair play." She had noticed how serious he suddenly was and didn't know what else to do. When she saw the teasing glint come back into his eyes she was at once excited and nervous. She chuckled as she rubbed her cheek against the fabric of his shirt, "Did you decide your clothes were dirty?"

Lancelot watched her through half lidded eyes as he slowly descended upon her lips. He tugged her lower lip between his and flicked it with his tongue. Then he stroked the column of her throat with his hand while the other clasped hers atop her knee, squeezing it as the kiss deepened. He would never tire of her kisses. They reminded him of the warm sun and fireflies. In moments her mouth was open neath his exploring his just as thoroughly as he was hers. He didn't know if the moan of desire had come from her or himself. He pulled away, mindful of his body becoming quite aware as to how long it had been since he'd been this close to a woman.

"You were just too tempting for me to take the time to disrobe."

Delaney felt his mouth leave hers and moaned. She felt the stirrings of his arousal behind her and felt her skin heat against the cooling water, causing her nipples to throb. Next thing she knew he had pulled her head back against his bicep and was nibbling upon her pulse. A strangled whimper escaped. He intensified the suckling of her neck and she squeezed his hand. "I don't believe how I could be that tempting but..." She took a moment to relearn to breathe. "But keep that up and I think I could believe I was somewhat desirable."

Lancelot felt the insistent squeeze upon his hand. He continued kissing from her throat to her ear and back again. Eliciting all manner of sounds from her. The hand that had been resting upon her knee he began to slide beneath the water and down to her ankle where he gently caressed the skin of her leg and then trailed his fingers up to her knee and then to the arm and over the shoulder. From the shoulder he caressed the collar bone. He then pulled her into him, hugging her fiercely as he buried his head into her hair.

Delaney was caught off guard. She reached up and ran her fingers soothingly through his damp curls, enjoying being held. Feeling safe in his embrace. She sighed.

"I missed you, Lady Delaney." Lancelot's muffled voice commented as if it were torn from him.

Delaney smirked and the term 'lady'. "And I you Sir Lanc-O-lot." She finished with a chuckle. He answered with one of his own.

"What am I to do with you?" He finally had raised his head to look into her eyes.

"I thought you were going to bathe me," was the coy reply.

Lancelot laughed. "Bathe you in kisses I think."

Delaney grinned shyly at him, "I don't know if that would be such a good idea."

He wiggled his eyebrows mischievously, "I made you think something that made you blush, I think it's an excellent idea."

"There's that cocksureness." Delaney commented dryly, still a brilliant crimson.

"You blush clear down–well until your skin meets the water. I wonder how much further that lovely shade goes."

"You're enjoying this aren't you?" She chimed indignantly.

"Immensely."

"Why I ought to–"

"Kiss me." It was a cross between a plead and suggestion. She leaned in, placing a tender kiss upon his mouth. Inhaling sharply at the jolt of electricity that seemed to course through her. She felt Lancelot shift and the next thing she knew she was straddling him her naked breasts pressed against the tunic. He was ever mindful of her back and ran his hands from her hair and down her arms and up again.

Delaney braced one hand upon his shoulder while the other one held the base of his neck. She shouldn't be doing this, she thought. She pulled away, catching her breathe smiling to see Lancelot's chest heaving just as much. "Oh my."

He chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "I love your exclamations. The woman who could sit and tell a story for three hours and yet kisses bring you back to phrases that are monosyllabic."

"I guess you bring out my more basal instincts."

"Basal, I like the sound of that. Goes with Primal, animalistic–" He kept leaning forward as he spoke, "Feral," he almost growled as he claimed her mouth once more. Once again picking her up gently and rotating her, where once again she was facing forward. As much as he loved having her breasts brush against his chest and her straddling him. He didn't know if he could be gentlemanly and keep himself under control. Her body kept arching into what was soon becoming a fully aroused erection. He seriously doubted she intended for it to happen and he didn't really want to have sex with her just yet. He wanted something more, something he couldn't put his finger on. He started caressing her shoulder and let his fingers trail on down her side.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

He gave her a boyish grin, "I have never felt this way, Laney. Ever. Even I am man enough to say I've had my pick of women here."

"Sometimes more than once." Delaney quipped in an effort to lighten the mood.

Lancelot chuckled as he playfully splashed water against her. She shivered, "Okay, this water is definitely cold." She moved to get out and Lancelot stood with her.

"Let me get out first. Then I'll help you out, Ellen gave me a salve to put on your back."

"Ellen, where was Dag?"

"Attached to Ellen's arm."

"So she knew that–"

"They know nothing more than I came to see you. What secrets you share with your lady friends are your choice."

"And what secrets will you share with your male friends?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

"That I found a way I enjoy taking a bath." He stepped from the tub, his erection clearly visible against his leather trews. He caught Delaney staring. "We can't, Laney. You received pleasure, and that is all I intended." He saw her lick her lips and wonder if she even realized she had. "Your back will not take the love making I plan."

Delaney looked at him, her face void of any emotion, "Love making?"

"You know, when a man and woman come together to pleasure each other?"

"Lancelot don't say love making unless you mean it. Call it what it is, sex."

Lancelot felt the anger rise in him. He stopped himself. Tristan had told him briefly what Delaney had told him when they first came to the fort. He had asked Tristan once when they were the only two awake if he knew why Delaney would have had such a scar on her back. Tristan had shrugged, said she had never told him of that, but she told him of how her husband had beat her and demoralized her. Lancelot had dwelled on that. This woman had been through hell in his time alone, yet it seemed as if it must have been hell for her in her time as well. He clasped her hand and pulled her into him, surrounding her in a gentle bear hug, ever mindful of her back. "Laney, I don't say things I don't mean. Even when I'm charming women, I'm telling them what I like about them. You don't understand because you were ill treated by a man who claimed he loved you. I didn't make love to the women who I paid to warm my bed. I will make love to you."

"I didn't mean to upset you–"

Lancelot smiled as he quieted her with a kiss, "You upset me yes. But only because I'm having to relearn how to talk with a woman. Not that is bad thing."

Delaney shivered as he wrapped the cloth about her shoulders and pulled her close into a passionate kiss once again. She felt his leg press between hers and a strangled moan echoed about the room as her sensitive core brushed against his leather clad leg.

"You are a little hell cat aren't you? You want more?"

"I think I could get addicted to your touch." Delaney said with a half smile.

Lancelot through back his head and laughed heartily. "Oh woman! You do wonders for my ego!"

"You do wonders for mine."

Lancelot tucked stray strands of wet hair behind her ear. "You're beautiful."

"You're just saying that because you've been surrounded by the likes of Bors the last few days. I'm sure Galahad was starting to look enticing."

Lancelot laughed, "Not quite, the beard doesn't do anything for me."

Delaney had to laugh. "As much as I have missed your company, I would like to get dressed. It's a bit chilly outside of the tub as well."

Lancelot grinned at her, "I can think of something to warm you up." He leaned in once again, but this time he didn't kiss her lips, he nuzzled her earlobe smiling as she clung to his chest. He let the linen fall and wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. He kissed his way to the throbbing pulse of her neck and felt her whole body convulse against him when he licked it delicately. He moaned as he pulled away enough to look into her dark sapphire blue eyes. "I missed you, Laney." She nodded at him and smiled shyly.

Delaney couldn't form any coherent thought. Her body was smoldering with need. She knew one thing, Lancelot. She could feel his arousal against her stomach. She smoothed her hands over his taut shoulders and tangled her finger tips into the luxuriously soft curls that were still slightly damp. She heard herself whimper with need and the next thing she knew she was pressed against the tapestry covered wall; Lancelot's hands behind her so as not to have her back smashed into the wall. His body was completely formed against hers. Where her curves were soft and yielding his powerful form sought solace. She felt the large muscles of his thighs and the biceps of his arms holding him in check. She thought she heard the banging of her heart in her ears when suddenly the warmth of his lips left her clavicle and she stood gasping. Her mind was the first to register that the banging was not her heart, but the door. Lancelot hurriedly answered the door, opening it just enough for the person to talk to him, but not see anything else in the room. Delaney quickly fumbled around for a dress to wear. Guinevere had had one made, it was a dark royal purple almost twilight blue color. Instead of being Roman cut, it had a scoop style neck that barely touched the shoulders. The sleeves hung to her elbows. The skirt was a simple A line cut that hung to the floor. It had been trimmed in gold thread with a gold tie sash. Lancelot had closed the door and had come back to the chamber where her room was. Delaney was just finishing brushing her hair when she turned and caught Lancelot's gaze. He didn't say anything but the predatory look in his eyes told her everything. "You like?" She asked.

"Yes." Was the sharp hiss as he quickly, hungrily staked his claim to her lips. They parted breathlessly. "That was Ganis, Arthur is awaiting us."

"Us?"

"Seems Vanora came up with a quick celebration in honor of our safe return. You and I seem to be the last one's to show."

"Oh!"

"You're beautiful when you blush. When they get a look at you in that dress, they won't mind that I took my time escorting you." He placed her hand upon his arm and winked.

"Are you going to make a new fashion statement as well so they know exactly what we have been up to?" She raised an eyebrow as she appraised him.

Lancelot looked down at his sopping clothes and grinned, "I'll tell them that you drenched me in your beauty."

"I don't think so."

"How about I quickly go change?" He said with a wink.

"I like that idea much better."


	14. Drinks All Around

A/N Real life happens, or so I have been told. So sorry for the long absence. I promise to be more regular in my updates!

Thanks for all of the reviews, they mean lots to me and my muse.

Disclaimer- I own nothing but Delaney. I make no profit.

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Guinevere and Delaney shared a conspiratorial smile as she took her seat. Delaney noticed a slight pink mark behind Guinevere's ear and her smile widened. Arthur stood, made his usual comments about how it was glorious to be home; then turned quite serious and somber. "I'm afraid that I have bad news. The Saxons are on the move again. However, it's only minor skirmishes along the coast; not the large Army that we so recently defeated. This threat appears to be from the North and is lead by a woman. I do not know when they will be here, but they will be here."

Delaney racked her brain, the north...She sucked in a deep breath the Scots! She braced her elbow upon the table and absently tapped her fingers against her temple. The Scots invaded from Ireland at around the same time that the Saxons were pillaging along the Southern shores.

Lancelot watched Delaney. He noticed how she had listened to Arthur then suddenly a spark lit her eyes. He leaned over and whispered, "Does tapping the head help drum up thoughts?" Delaney gasped in startlement, gave him a frosty smile then slipped back to her thoughts.

Delaney suddenly felt the urge to go speak with Merlin. They were lead by a woman. That simple phrase made her stomach churn. In history there was never anything referring to the Scots being lead by a woman.

"Delaney, are you alright?" Lancelot grasped her arm almost painfully. Worry laced his voice.

Delaney blinked rapidly; clearing her thoughts. "Just thinking."

"Don't strain yourself, you actually turned white as a sheet."

Delaney pushed all of the glib thoughts aside and smiled. She sipped her wine as she grasped Lancelot's hand in hers.

Lancelot felt her touch against his hand. A small glint came back into her eyes as she smiled at him. He smiled instinctively back; she had one of those smiles. When she smiled you couldn't help but return it. However, he still felt a certain unease about her. They would definitely talk later.

Arthur hadn't missed the suddenly serious expression upon Delaney's features when he mentioned the new invaders. Guinevere had told him of what Merlin had told her. Delaney was her half sister. He shook his head at the improbability. It wasn't impossible, but it was mind boggling. Guinevere was older, yet Delaney was three years her senior now. A soul that had been reborn over time. Guinevere had said her sister's name had been Ambrosia. Nectar of the gods. Now here was Delaney , which Guinevere informed him meant enemy's child. Did fate mean for her to be here or did Merlin meddle enough with time that fate would right itself? He took a long drink of wine. He wasn't going to dwell on it. Her knowledge would help him. He lived in the here and now, and here and now his people had a threat coming once again.

The dinner was a somber occasion. The memories of Badon Hill not far from anyone's mind. Delaney ate quietly, racking her brain for the historical information of the Scots that she knew was there. She had finished the chicken leg and fruit and thoughtfully strummed her fingers against her wine goblet. Her other hand traced the carvings in the table's surface.

Lancelot watched her over his wine goblet. She was obviously troubled. Her eyebrows were knit together and he had come to recognize when her fingers were idly moving that meant she was deep in thought. Everyone else were talking amongst themselves. Everyone save Tristan he noticed. Tristan too was watching Delaney. Lancelot put down his wine goblet with a sigh. The scout hadn't said much of anything this trip. Not that he talked all that much in the first place, but this time he was especially quiet. Lancelot cleared those thoughts from his head. He was here, with Delaney, something he had dreamt of every night for the past several. He laid his hand upon hers and startled eyes met his. He smiled, "What happened to your wrist?" He asked affectionately rubbing his thumb against the angry scar.

Delaney smiled self consciously, "From when I was tied to the post."

He winced, that wasn't the subject he wanted to bring up. "What did Guinevere show you today?"

Delaney blushed as she mumbled, "The bathes." She quickly took a sip of wine.

Lancelot leaned over, "Ahh and did you like the Roman bathes?"

"I much prefer the tub in my room." She mumbled again, unable to hide her smirk, or the fact she was blushing further.

"I bet you do." Lancelot said, not looking at her as he took a drink of wine.

Delaney chuckled in spite of herself and Lancelot met her gaze and his grin widened. She sighed rotating her shoulders, trying to loosen the tightness in her back. "She also showed me the archery range. If I'm to be any help in coming days I need to practice shooting a bow. However, my back won't permit me at the moment."

"You know how to shoot a bow?" His eyebrows shot up, querying. This woman amazed him.

"Yeah, not that I'm all that good at it. But, I could hold my own." Delaney was still trying to remember what she had forgotten about the Scots. She itched to have her books in front of her.

"Why do you know how to shoot a bow?"

"That is what paid for my college tuition. I went to the University on an Archery Scholarship."

"University?"

"Advanced schooling. I ended up being a professor there." She commented matter of factly.

"What did you teach?" He asked conversationally.

"History of the middle ages." Delaney mumbled with a snicker. Then she realized the irony was lost on Lancelot. "This time period is referred to as the middle ages."

"You should feel right at home then, since you know all about this time." He was impressed. A schooled woman, a woman who could use a bow and beautiful all in one.

"Ha! Far from it. I may know about it, but knowing it and experiencing it are two completely different things!"

Their dishes were cleared away. The knights started filtering out. Arthur turned to Delaney, "Delaney, would you stay a moment so that I may have a word?"

Delaney turned to Lancelot, "I'll be at the tavern in a moment. Save a spot for me?" Lancelot paused as if about to protest. With a shrug he nodded, grabbed his wine goblet and left the room. Guinevere gave a quick peck to Arthur's cheek, a squeeze to Delaney's arm and left too.

"What do you know about this army from the North?" Arthur inquired.

Delaney sighed, "What I can remember is the Scots invaded from the North at around the same time the Saxons were raiding the Southern shores."

"Are any of my people killed?" Concern so evident in his voice it was palatable.

"Arthur, I can't tell you that," she held her hand up when she saw him begin to speak, "One, it really wasn't documented that well. Just that they invaded, and two, even if I did know I wouldn't divulge that information. Time has been meddled with enough just by my being here. I don't wish to meddle with it further." She sat forward in her chair, watching the man in front of her as he mulled over everything she said.

"Guinevere told me how you and she are sisters." He said after a heavy sigh.

"Bizarre isn't it?" She took a sip of the last of her wine.

"I'm glad though." He replied with a warm smile.

"Why?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"She needs someone that doesn't know her past. Someone who won't be prejudiced." Arthur lamented.

"The knights and Vanora seem very excepting of her." Delaney answered.

"They are. But then she fought along side us at Bandon Hill. But some of the towns people only see the Woad. They treat her as is befitting my wife, but that is all." He said with a sad shake of his head.

Delaney didn't have any comment for that. Instead she stood, "If we're done I'd like to go see what trouble Lancelot has gotten up to."

Arthur grinned, "If you're worried about any of the wenches don't be. He only has eyes for you."

"I'm more concerned about how much alcohol he's imbibed, not the women he's harassing at the moment." She said with a half smile.

Delaney was on her way toward the tavern when she looked up at the wall and saw the stalwart scout standing watch. With a smirk she quickly went up another set of stairs and then walked to that side of the wall, hoping to sneak up on Tristan.

"I hope you aren't trying to sneak up on me." He mumbled, looking out into the night.

"Can't blame a girl for trying." She quipped, leaning against the stones of the wall. The view still made her stop and gasp.

"Yes, I can." He glanced at her, then back into the darkness.

Delaney looked out into the black onyx night. She wasn't going to press him. She knew how much he liked his silence. A shiver ran through her, she crossed her arms, hugging them to her and still staring out at the night, picking out the constellations.

"Shouldn't you be at the Tavern?" He asked gruffly.

"I wanted to look at the stars." He merely nodded at her response. She subconsciously rubbed her chafed wrist.

"Dag should have some salve for that."

"Yes." She replied non commitally. They stood in silence for a few more moments. She stood up straight and watched the silent knight. "You need to forgive yourself Tristan. I have forgiven you, now it's your turn." With that she left him; brooding and watching the stars.

Delaney came up behind Lancelot who was in the process of playing a dice game with Gawain and Galahad. She had put her finger to her lips in an effort for the other two not to alert him. She then placed her hands over his eyes and said, "Guess who!" Knowing her accent would give her away. Lancelot laughed as he reached to remove her hands and turn to look up at her.

Delaney gasped, not expecting the sensation of feeling his hair brush against the bare flesh of the tops of her breasts. Lancelot noticed and moved his head again, "I'd know that voice anywhere." He answered, moving to the side so she could sit with him. He leaned over and whispered, "Is everything okay?"

"Yes, all is fine." She whispered back, flicking her tongue against his ear. Pay backs are hell, she thought.

Lancelot felt the very tip of her tongue and gulped. He looked slyly at her and winked. Two could play at this game. Galahad's loud whoop brought his attention back to the game.

"Ha! I won again, Lancelot. You said best out of three. Pay up!"

Lancelot groaned, reached into his Over tunic and pulled out three gold coins. He then got up, held out his hand to Delaney, and said, "I'm done. I'm going to go sulk with this lovely lady."

"Why don't I teach you fine men a game from my time? Maybe you won't have to go off and sulk." She winked at Lancelot.

Lancelot smiled, flashing his dimples making her blush. "My lady is going to drink with us mere men?"

"No, the mere men are going to drink with the Lady." She held out her hand for the dice which Galahad gave to her. "Okay, first off, we need a fresh set of full mugs."

"I can help with that!" Gawain let out a shrill whistle and the blonde woman whom Lancelot had spoken to the other night sauntered over.

"Can I get you something?" She purred.

"Mugs of ale all around." Gawain commented, flipping her a coin. She winked and sashayed away.

Delaney shook her head as she eyed the mugs around her. "Are any of these empty?"

Galahad took the one in front of him, dumped the last swallow upon the ground and handed it to her, "Here."

Delaney took it, wrinkling her nose. "I guess this will have to do." She eyed Gawain, "Can I have your wrist band?"

He took it off and gave it to her, staring at her. She flattened it out as best she could. She turned the cup over on top of it and found that the wrist band was sturdy enough for her to balance the pottery cup atop it. She placed the dice into the cup, handing the third back to Galahad. "I only need two."

Just then the barmaid was back with their drinks. Lancelot took them off the tray for her and placed a full mug of ale in front of everyone. He folded his arms atop the table and eyed Delaney, "Okay, now what's this game?"

She smiled, "The object of the game is to have a two and a one, or doubles. However... if you don't you have to drink. If you don't have a two and a one or doubles you say you do and pass it on. If the person who's turn it is after you, claims you are lying, and they look at the dice and find you are, you drink twice. If you weren't lying, then they drink twice. The only person who sees the dice is you when you lift the cup like this," she demonstrated tilting the cup where only she could see the dice lying atop Gawain's wrist guard. "And of course the person who questions you. But, they don't have to look if they believe you."

"Sounds simple enough." Galahad commented.

"Yes, but Delaney hasn't been drinking." Gawain pointed out.

"Then of course, ladies first." Lancelot stated gallantly.

Delaney giggled as she shook the cup of dice. She lifted it up and couldn't help the sigh that escaped her lips. "Guess I get to drink." She handed the cup over to a grinning Gawain and gulped down a mouthful of ale. She managed to only cough once. A chorus of laughs sounded about her.

Gawain looked in at the dice and smiled triumphantly. "Ha I have a two and a 1." Galahad grabbed the cup and said, "I don't believe you!"

He tilted the cup up and said, "See, it's a one and a two!" Then he realized his error. Without prompting he took two great swallows of ale.

Lancelot took it from Galahad and shook it. He then smiled coyly at Delaney."Double six." He announced.

Delaney took the cup and stared at him, lips pursed. She narrowed her eyes at him, "I don't believe you."

"Go ahead, look." He motioned towards her hand which held the cup.

She did and immediately saw the two sixes. She took two large swallows of ale. "Fine." She shook the cup, looked and sighed. Then said, "I have double twos."

Gawain grabbed the cup and chortled, "Ah Delaney, you had best work on your lying! I say it isn't!"

"Fine take a look!"

He did and shook his head, "Ahh you're good, Delaney, but now I know better!" He took his two swallows and shook the cup.

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Delaney erupted in a fit of giggles, not even able to attempt to lie. "Oh dag nab it! I'm drinking before I even try to lie and end up drinking more!" She took a swig out of her cup, knocking the two empty ones over that were next to her elbow. This brought out more giggles. The three men couldn't help but laugh with her.

Lancelot watched her, eyes dancing in merriment, "My lady, you are most drunk."

"Nope, I'm not. I'm overly tipsy!"

"Tipsy?"

"Yes, I can still walk a straight line, so am not drunk."

"You think so?" Gawain asked, a smug smirk upon his face.

"I know so."

"Prove it!" Galahad challenged.

Delaney rose a bit wobbly from the table, lifted her skirts, and with a suggestive slow sashay walked on her tip toes in a straight line. She then looked coyly over her shoulder, "See."

Lancelot felt things tighten inside as he watched the dress pull up to her knees, showing shapely calves as her hips swayed and she walked the few feet in a very straight line. She then turned around and walked back to the table, in the same slow sashay. His mouth was suddenly dry. He took a drink of ale in order to make it so he could swallow. Delaney sat back down giggling.

"Told you!" She chided, taking a swig of ale from her own cup.

"And, you did it quite well!" Lancelot informed her with a wink. "My lady, I have but one question, how does this game of yours end?"

"Why, the first person who can't stand!"

"Do you know how long this could go on?" Gawain lamented.

"Oh trust me, I'm sure you all could drink me under the table." Delaney said with a smile.

"I'm sure Lancelot wouldn't like that." Galahad said with a wink.

"I think I had better get the Lady back to her chambers before she ends up under the table." Lancelot stated in a matter of fact tone as he stood.

Just then it started to rain. Delaney looked up enjoying the watery caress. It was a warm rain. Galahad and Gawain both got up, "I think it's a draw, I don't feel like getting wet."

"I second that." Gawain added as he quickly rose from the bench.

Delaney chuckled, "You two aren't sweet enough to melt. Come on, enjoy it. It's beautiful!"

"You can tell she's new," Gawain commented, "She thinks rain is great."

"Give her time." Lancelot quipped as he offered Delaney his arm.

She shook her head and began dancing circles in the water puddles which were forming, holding her dress up in her hands. "I'm singing in the rain. Just singing in the rain! What a wonderful feeling I'm" she kicked water at Lancelot, "Happy again!"

Lancelot couldn't help but laugh at her. She was dancing around like a child, doing some sort of a jig. She didn't have a bad voice either, he noted. She carried a tune quite well. She splashed water on him and he quickly grabbed her about the waist, "I'd think you'd had enough of water this evening."

"Never enough of water!" She exclaimed. She stood on her tip toes, gave him a quick peck and scampered away. Delaney felt happy and free and yes, quite inebriated.

Lancelot chased after her, grabbing her this time by the elbow and holding fast, "Shush woman! You'll wake everyone!" He was laughing, causing a stitch in his side. He had never felt so young and alive; chasing this woman down the streets of the fort.

Delaney erupted in giggles. "Oops, can't have that!" She smothered the next set of giggles behind her hand. Lancelot grabbed her and held her against him kissing her soundly. Between the alcohol and all the laughter, Delaney felt another emotion, unhindered because of the alcohol imbibed; course through her. Taking Lancelot off guard she shoved him roughly against the stone wall behind him. Trying to drink herself in through his mouth.

Lancelot felt the desire in him answer her urgent call. He lifted her up; placing both of his hands underneath her buttocks and feeling her legs wrap around him as she drank even more deeply. He couldn't help the moan that escaped his throat in a growl. He pulled away, "Oh gods, Delaney! Not here. I won't take you in the middle of a street!"

A cough sounded close by and both turned to see Tristan lurking in the shadows. Delaney blushed crimson and Lancelot smirked as he ran his hand through his hair. Delaney looked up at him, "Is this why "not here'?"

"Honestly I didn't even see him. I was a bit distracted."

Delaney couldn't help but grin. She was the reason he was distracted. She turned to make a comment to Tristan and found he was now almost past them. She strode up to him, and kicked water onto his trews. He turned, looked at her and smirked, still walking as he brushed at his now damp pants leg. Delaney got an impish smirk upon her face and before Lancelot could reach out and stop her she had took off running after Tristan. She then leaped and landed upon the Scouts back. Lancelot stared wide eyed. No one touched the scout.

Tristan felt the weight upon his back and stopped. His first instinct was to reach behind him and pull the person over and onto the ground. The drunken giggling in his ear stopped him. Instead he pulled the legs further around his body until he was cradling a giggling Delaney in his arms. "Gefaemne, you are drunk."

"Gef–Gef– What did you just call me?"

"It's Sarmatian for woman." Lancelot stated quietly as he caught up to them.

"Well yes, I am a wee bit inebriated."

"You need to be more careful."

"Of what?" She asked indignantly.

"Of me." He said with a smirk as he splashed water onto her. Delaney, who was crouching on the ground anyway, took a handful of water from the puddle and threw it at him. It caught him full in the face. She then scampered away. Tristan and Lancelot both took off after her.

Delaney ran in a zig zag motion, every once in awhile looking behind her shoulder to see where the men were. Lancelot was behind her and she couldn't see Tristan. She turned and practically ran the scout over. He grabbed her arms, forcing her to stop. She gasped for air and giggled, wiping the hair from her eyes.

Lancelot loped up behind them. "You need to be more careful."

"You, are going to wake the whole fort!" Tristan gasped for air; smiling at her.

"Oh well, it was fun while it lasted!" The rain had become lighter and she tilted her head up, feeling the water upon her face.

"Your back Delaney." Lancelot stated.

"It hurts what of it?"

"It's bleeding through the dress." Tristan said in a quiet concerned tone.

Delaney sighed, "Look guys, don't start fawning over me like I'm inept. I probably tore open the scabs when I tackled Tristan."

"Or climbed up Lancelot," Tristan dead panned.

Delaney turned red, "Or there is that."

"Or both." Lancelot added.

"Either way, it will be fine. However, my dress is clinging to me now so I would like to get out of this water. Where were you headed, Tristan?"

"To the Tavern."

"Well then we'll join you." Delaney said brightly as she grabbed his arm along with Lancelot's. They both exchanged puzzled looks above her head. Delaney looked from one to the other, "What?"

"Well uh-"

"You didn't want to have a drink with, Tristan?" Delaney asked innocently, nuzzling against Lancelot's arm.

"It's not that."

"Then what is it? Obviously it's something because you are looking at me like I am doing the most amazing thing and I haven't figured out yet as to what that was. Maybe I am more drunk than I think I am but still that's not the point!"

"I think it's because you have touched me more than any woman ever." Tristan answered softly. He motioned them toward a table that was partially covered by the awning of the bar.


	15. Madness

Delaney rolled over and groaned. Her head felt as if a marching band was using her temples for the bass drum. She felt a hand caress her shoulder and wearily opened her eyes. Dark brown ones stared back at her; glinting mischievously. She groaned again, shutting her eyes, "Please tell me I didn't do anything I would regret not remembering?"

"You are still fully clothed." Lancelot said with a chuckle.

"What about you?" She asked; holding her breath.

"Unfortunately so am I."

She went to turn her head and felt the throbbing start once again. "Oh God, I forgot what hangovers were like. I need my purse."

Lancelot smirked at her as he sat up and reached over her head to the table next to the bed. "Here, try some of this." He handed her a mug.

Delaney took it wearily, "What is it?" She sniffed at the contents and felt herself gag.

"It will make you feel better." He watched her closely.

"Or it will make me throw up." She lamented.

"Come on, Laney. Trust me."

Delaney regarded him, "You know, I usually don't trust a man who says trust me."

"You trusted me last night." He chided, his grin broadening.

With a heavy sigh Delaney plugged her nose drinking the whole mug down in a gulp. Lancelot chuckling the whole time. "It won't be so funny when I throw up on you."

"It would just give me an excuse to have to take another bath." Lancelot commented innocently as he pulled her against him.

Delaney swatted at him, "You and water."

"You didn't seem to mind too much," He muttered as he nuzzled her throat.

Delaney paused as she felt his tongue graze against her pulse, her fingers tangling in the soft curls of his hair. She sighed in spite of herself. She turned to stare at him, and smiled.

Lancelot gently brushed her cheekbone with his fingers. "What shall we do today?"

"Go to sleep?" She offered.

"Isn't Gawain supposed to give you riding lessons?" His eyebrow lifted as his eyes twinkled mischievously.

Delaney covered her eyes with her hands, "Don't remind me."

"You'll feel better after you get up and eat something." She peaked through her fingers at him.

"You really are trying to get me to throw up aren't you?"

Lancelot merrily grinned at her, "Just rest for a few minutes and let the herbs take affect. I'll go get some bread from Vanora. You'll be feeling up to riding in no time."

Delaney lay with her hand partially thrown over her eyes, trying to get past the throbbing of her head. There was a knock at the door and then it opened. She heard the raspy chuckle before booted feet walked across the floor. She knew it was Tristan, "What do YOU want?"

"I'm shocked to find you still clothed." He regarded her with a lopsided grin.

"Ha Ha." She opened her eyes and sat up, "Really, Tristan, what do you want?"

"Here are your clothes. Gawain has every intention of taking you riding today." After a quick perusal he commented further, "Unless you want Lancelot's reputation to remain intact? We could always say that you couldn't walk."

"No rest for the weary." Delaney grumbled as she pushed herself up into a sitting position; sliding her feet to the floor.

"Don't you mean wicked?" Tristan asked with a smirk before he sauntered from the room.

Delaney stood next to the huge horse and glanced at Gawain. Lancelot, Bors, Dagonet, and Galahad all stood near the stable staring at her. "It's just like riding Lancelot, Lass." Bors offered.

Delaney couldn't help the blush, trying to hide her head against the horse's side.

Gawain chuckled, "We all know Delaney."

"Know what? I'll have you know I slept in my clothes last night."

"Really?" He looked down at her, his disbelief obvious.

"As did Lancelot."

"Really?"

"Ask him." Delaney taunted.

"Lancelot you losing your touch?" Gawain asked as he peered over the horse toward the dark haired knight.

"I prefer a woman to be drunk on desire not wine when I bed her."

"Passed out on him did you?" Gawain asked Delaney in a conspiratorial whisper, his voice filled with unvoiced laughter.

"I only remember leaving the tavern."

Gawain shook his head as he helped her up onto the horse. He felt her stiffen as she straddled it. "Relax. A horse is only as good as their rider. If they sense your insecurity they will fight you every step of the way. Become one with the horse."

"Yes master Yoda."

"I am not a short green pointy eared man."

"No, but you do sound like him." She looked at him, "Shouldn't I be on a saddle?"

"When learning to ride, it's easier not to have a saddle." He stared at her sitting stiffly atop the horse. The horse was standing stock still; waiting.

"Use the Force Laney and become one with the horse." He repeated with a smile.

Delaney asked, "What is his name anyway? And if it's something sugary sweet I'm getting off of him right now."

"His name is Achilles."

"That is one that could go either way you know."

"I named him that after he stepped on my ankle as a colt."

Delaney smirked and leaned down to the horses ear, "I like you already." She commented, patting his head affectionately. At that moment Gawain whacked the horses rump and Achilles shot off like an arrow in flight. Delaney clutched the mane tightly, hunching down. She squeezed his girth with her thighs. Gawain shouted, "Alright, if you want to go right, nudge his ribs with your right thigh. Apply a small amount of pressure. If you want to go left nudge with your left. If you want to stop jerk back on his mane."

"Easy for you to say", she grumbled. As soon as she caught her breath she pulled back on the mane. Just like that the horse stopped. If it hadn't been for the fact that her thighs were gripping the horses sides' she would have tumbled over it's head. She had to admit that the feeling had been exhilarating. With a lopsided smirk, she yelled "Giddy up!" And barreled down on Gawain, the horse stopping inches in front of him. Delaney asked, "What's next?" Her eyes twinkling.

After three more hours, and a considerable layer of dirt Delaney finally slid off Achilles. "As fun as that was, I'm sore as hell." She walked slowly to the stables; following the retreating rump of the horse.

"You did just fine. I thought you said you had problems falling off?" Gawain asked, turning to face her once he had lead Achilles into his stall. Ganis was there immediately brushing Achilles down. Gawain took an apple from inside his outer tunic and fed it to the horse.

"The last time I was on a horse I was 8 years old."

"That could explain why you kept falling off." Gawain ushered her from the stables. "Well, that was your riding lesson. Just keep up with it and you'll be a fine horsewoman."

"Next lesson will be shooting a bow from atop Achilles."

"Why on earth would you want to do that?" Lancelot asked aghast.

"Excuse me, sir knight, but need I remind you that the Scots are coming?" Delaney asked with a smile.

"And because of that you should stay in the fort." Lancelot turned, looking her in the eye; his eyebrows knit together.

"Would you expect Guinevere to stay in the fort?"

"No, but she's been in battles; you have not."

They had been walking towards the archery range where Delaney had glimpsed Tristan practicing as she had been riding. "Look, Lancelot, I have as much reason as Guinevere to fight."

"Why?" He asked blocking her way.

"Because I don't play the wilting flower well." She turned with a huff. She walked up to Tristan, waiting patiently as he released the arrow he had notched. Tristan then turned and looked silently at her, "Where can I get a bow and arrows?" He nodded his head in the direction of a building at the end of the path. "Thanks." She headed toward the building. She was jerked to a halt abruptly. She turned and found herself staring at Lancelot's goatee. "What?"

"I don't want to lose you, Delaney." He answered quietly, not quite able to look her in the eye.

Delaney rolled her eyes and continued walking. "You will lose me if you keep up this attitude." When she got into the weaponry she paused; head bent down. "I know you guys don't understand. In my century, women are allowed in battle. We are allowed to do most things men are."

"There are still battles, even in your time? There isn't enough land to not have been conquered by then."

"In my time it isn't over land; it's over religion and politics." Delaney answered as she tested a bow and put it back and grabbed another.

"Have you ever been in one of these battles?"

"No."

"Then why not just–" He was asking with a shrug of the shoulders and gentle persuasive tone.

Delaney had just picked out a bow and spun around, "I have never backed down from anything, Lancelot. Even if it may have been in my own best interest. It's just not in me."

Lancelot reached out and caressed her cheek, "This is hard for me."

She stared at him, sighing heavily. "It's hard for me too, Lancelot. I'm not from this time. I am not used to having to answer to a man before I do something. I-" she searched for the words, "For all I know your time is messed up because Merlin interfered."

Lancelot ran his hands through her hair, "I don't want to lose you."

"How the hell do you think I feel? Do you think I could stand losing you? Do you think I could sit back and wait and see if you come back?"

"I never thought of it that way." He mumbled.

"I didn't think so. To you its your duty."

He studied her a moment, "You still don't feel quite right here do you?"

"I may never feel quite right here, Lancelot. But right now, the Scots are coming; it's just a matter of time. Once we get them out of the way then I'll settle in. Maybe I can help Vanora serve drinks or something."

He smiled at her, "I'm glad you're willing to try."

"I can't sit around complaining what I don't have Lancelot. I just have a hard time remembering that some rights and privileges aren't in existence yet." She felt a lump in her throat. She refused to shed tears for something that hadn't happened yet. She had this feeling she was going to lose him. The man cheated death once, he could do it again. Or maybe he had cheated it one too many times already. With a sigh she pushed past him, "I need to see how lax I've become in my shooting." She mumbled as an excuse as she went to join Tristan out on the archery range.

She quietly stood next to Tristan, enjoying the rhythm of his movements. Everything was measured and even. His stance, how he pulled the arrow from the quiver; notching it into the bow. The sound of the string as he pulled it, the whistle of the arrow through the air. The "thump" as it hit the bulls eye, then it all started again. Delaney relaxed, breathing deep, letting all of her frustrations fall away. She tested the bow string; getting the feel for it. She set the quiver of arrows over her shoulder and pulled one out. She notched it, taking a deep breath she let go, exhaling as the arrow sped through the air. With a triumphant smirk she watched as it hit high on the target. "Not a bulls eye, but at least I hit the damn target." She muttered. She did it again; this time the arrow almost with in the bulls eye. She let lose again, getting the feel for it back and hit the bulls eye. Again she let fly, hitting the bull. She went through all of the quiver, embedding almost all into the bulls eye. She was about to walk off, to get her arrows when she felt a hand upon her shoulder. Tristan stood next to her. He handed her an arrow, "Try hitting one of the arrows already embedded in the target."

Delaney studied him, not knowing if he was challenging her ability, or offering advice. "Ookay." She muttered as she notched the arrow.

"Hold it like this," He gently moved her fingers over the arrow and bow string. "Look for the feathers." When she nodded her head he let go of her hand and stepped away, watching as the arrow sailed through the air landing right next to one of hers.

Delaney turned and looked at him, "It's not as easy as it looks."

"It's a smaller target. Sometimes in battle you have to aim for the smaller areas."

Delaney nodded her understanding. "Thank you."

Tristan looked at her questioningly, "For the help." She said with a small smile.

"You're welcome." He started towards his target to collect his arrows as she did the same. "He doesn't want you to fight."

Delaney paused as she pulled an arrow out of the wood surface. "No, he doesn't."

"But you want to."

"Yes."

Tristan sighed heavily, "I can understand."

This made Delaney turn and look at the man, "Why?"

He studied her, his eyes grey and blank; his face just as unrevealing. "Have you ever been in a battle?"

"No, but that's not the point! I can shoot–"

Tristan raised his hand and cut her off, "Exactly. You would be a hindrance to him. He would worry about your safety and not his own. Guinevere has been in many battles. Some against us. I am not saying you do not have skill. You do. But, you're skills are not tried or tested. You would do quite well I think shooting from the walls of the fort."

Delaney stared at him. Her jaw clenched and lips in a tight line. She wanted to argue with him but knew he was right. Finally she looked down, shoulders sagging, "I can't just wait around and do nothing." Delaney muttered as she gathered the last of her arrows. She was starting back towards the firing area when something made her turn her head and stare to the forest in the distance. She placed the bow over her shoulder and started for the trees. Listening and watching for anything that might have caught her attention. Then suddenly he was there, beside the trees, walking stick in hand. "What brings you out this way?" Delaney called to the aged mystic.

Merlin looked upon his daughter and grinned. "We need to speak."

Delaney walked up to him then followed him to a small pond within the shelter of the trees. Merlin motioned for her to be seated upon a fallen log while he took the taller tree stump. "They are 3 days away to the northeast."

"The Scots?"

"Morgan and her army."

"The Scots." Delaney stated. She sighed and looked up at Merlin, "In my time they weren't lead by a woman."

"A change in the timeline? Interesting." Merlin commented, stroking his beard.

"What do you suggest?"

"Morgan is coming for me. In her vision the child that was you died and because of this she left. In her vision the Scots were invading and they had killed you because of her. I do not know the complete details other than that. So, I took you and gave you to the Norse family. And you know that story, how your soul has been around the wheel of life numerous times. The day after I had taken you; Morgan came back; finding you gone. She was mad, blaming me for your death. I never wanted to let her know that you lived."

"Why on earth not?" Delaney gasped.

"Because she would have hunted you down and killed the parents I had given you to. She had changed; gone rogue. She no longer cared about her Woad family; she had a blood lust. It was then I found out she had joined the Scots in an effort to curb their warfare away from our home; thus preventing your death. Now I'm afraid she is after me." Merlin looked at the sorrow filled eyes and gently caressed Delaney's cheek. "Do not grieve, she won't get me; but she will get some. I wanted to say goodbye before the battle starts."

"But you just said–"

He reverently kissed her hand, touched her face once and walked off into the mist. Delaney felt bereft. She turned back toward the weaponry and trudged along, not even noting the clouds that had tumbled in. Once she got to the weaponry she grabbed a couple more quivers and went back to the archery range; needing to think.

Lancelot knocked on the door to Delaney's room, a tray of strawberry's and cream in his hand. When she didn't answer Lancelot gently opened the door. Finding the room empty he chuckled to himself as he made his way to his quarters. The little minx must have meant to surprise him. He opened his door and found his room empty as well. He set the tray down and closed the door. Standing in the hallway, leaning against the doorframe, he ran his hand through the mass of unruly curls. Tristan noticed him as he opened the door to his own quarters, "She's at the range still."

"How would you know?"

"I ate my lunch on the wall. I saw her." I watched her, he thought to himself.

"You watched her on the range and didn't tell her to get in here?" Lancelot's voice rose in pitch.

Tristan sighed, shaking his head. Delaney confused him enough with his own feelings and she didn't have eyes for him the way she did Lancelot. He couldn't imagine what the other knight was going through. This is why he stuck with hawks and horses. Women turned grown men into whining brats. "I think she has had enough of being told what she can and cannot do."

"Has she now? And did she tell you this?" Lancelot took a step forward.

Tristan stared at the man. He wanted to laugh, the knight had no clue that he had fallen in love. "No, Lancelot, she didn't tell me this." The other knight kept staring at him. "You don't want to do this."

"I think you like her, Tristan." Lancelot accused.

"Yes, I like her. I like her a lot. But I'm not in love with her. Neither are any of the others." Liar, he heard his conscious say. He wasn't lying, not exactly. He loved her, he wasn't in love with her. She managed to be a cross between a sister and close confidant and something in between. His feelings weren't always so brotherly. On more than one occasion he found himself fantasizing about her.

"Neither am I."

"So you say." Tristan muttered, as he turned to open his door. Just then he felt Lancelot grab his over tunic, turning him to face the shorter knight. Tristan rolled his eyes and in one fluid movement brought his fist towards the other knight's face. Just as quickly, he dropped his hand.. Lancelot back peddled, nearly tripping over his own two feet. Tristan pressed him into the wall, "I told you, you didn't want to do this. But you didn't listen. Now then, if you'd quit acting like such an ass you'd go to Delaney and tell her how you feel." With that he turned, opened his door and slammed it behind him. Tristan started undoing the lacings of his over tunic. Anyone with eyes could tell Delaney and Lancelot were madly in love with each other. At times it was enough to make him want to knock sense into both of them.

Lancelot strode toward the archery range the rain, which had been a mere shower moments before, was now a downpour. He watched Delaney a moment, her soaking wet form accented by her shirt which was sticking to her. Her hair matted down to her head in long wet strips. She had the same grace as Tristan when it came to shooting a bow. He felt himself fisting his hands; fighting the urge to rip the bow from her. Mad, because she was caressing the bow and not him. He shook his head. He was jealous of an inanimate object. That was utterly ridiculous. He noticed that Delaney was absently wiping at her face, more than just to push the offensive wet hair from her sight; but wiping at what had to be tears. From the set of her jaw, she was down right pissed. He took a deep breath, he could do this.

Delaney shot off an arrow, and swiped at her hair in exasperation. She then wiped the tears from her face, trying to focus on the target. She couldn't believe even Tristan sided against her. He had a point, but the point was she felt it was her fault this was happening anyway. She felt someone standing behind her; she was ignoring them. It was one of the knights most likely and right now she didn't want to deal with them. She continued firing off shots; each going more haphazardly than the last. When finally she wasn't hitting even remotely close to the target she hung her head; slinging the bow over her shoulder and enjoying the rain falling about her.

"Delaney, we need to talk." Lancelot started softly.

She turned and looked at him, then quickly turned away, arms crossed in front of her, " Then talk."

"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

"Well you did." She answered gruffly, not looking him in the eye.

"Would you look at me?" He stood in front of her, yet she still wasn't meeting his gaze.

Delaney in answer veered around him and went to go pick up her arrows. She wanted to be left alone, couldn't he see that? Lancelot stormed up to her and forcibly turned her around. Delaney fought his grasp, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Trying to have a conversation." Lancelot shot back.

"I don't wish to have a conversation." She felt as if he had his fist around her heart and was crushing it. The urge to run away was great.

Lancelot grabbed her shoulders with his hands and squatted down to peer into her eyes, rivulets of water dripping from his hair down his face, "What is wrong Delaney?"

"What's wrong? What's wrong? As if you didn't know!"

"If I knew I wouldn't be asking!"

"You don't want me to fight. Hell, even Tristan agrees with you! He says I'd be a distraction!"

"You would be." Was his quiet reply.

"I can't just stand around twiddling my thumbs!"

"Then help Vanora." He offered, trying to be helpful.

"But I can shoot a bow!" She exclaimed, hands upon her hips.

"Delaney, we aren't saying you can't." Lancelot fought for patience. "We're saying you have never seen battle, or war. Maybe we don't want it to scar you as it has us."

"You told me my scars didn't matter!"

Lancelot stood, trying to bring her into his embrace and comfort her. She fought him, but soon she was in his arms, fists clutched between them. "Laney," he brushed her hair with his hands, the rain pounding down on them. "I am speaking of the mental scars. You have enough mental anguish, I don't wish to add to it if I can help it. And shooting a bow in the midst of combat is totally different than shooting one at an unmoving target."

"You don't think I could do it?"

"I think you could, with practice. I have been training to be a knight for over 15 years, Delaney. Not only that, I have been shooting a bow for years before that. It was what we used to kill our food. It is how my people survived. I'm sorry, but I doubt you had to kill for your dinner."

"I hate this." She conceded.

"I know you do. You aren't a wilting flower, Delaney. You are quite possibly one of the strongest women I know. But you would make me worry, and that could cost me my life, which is what you say you do not wish to happen."

"I don't." She muttered. Wrapping her arms about him.

"I don't wish to watch you die either." He held her to him, kissing the top of her head, holding her close. He felt her arms go about him and hold him as if she were fearful he'd vanish. "What's wrong, Delaney? This isn't all about us telling you to stay put if we have to go fight."

"I don't know what I'd do if you don't come back Lancelot." She muttered, almost inaudibly; her voice faltering.

Lancelot's heart skipped a beat. What would he do if she was gone from his life? He felt stark terror at that thought. He had come to take her company for granted. He looked forward to her being there, he expected it. Her smile, the way it ghosted across her face. The way her hair fell over her eyes when she was deep in thought. Was Tristan right? Was he in love? He felt as if someone had punched him. He was. And Tristan had; almost. "I don't want to lose you either, Laney."

Delaney pulled away enough to look into his face and expressive eyes, "How would you lose me?"

"If I don't come back it would be losing you. I don't think my heart could take it."

"You'd be dead and wouldn't care."

"Are you so sure? Is there life after death? I would grieve for the lose of your love."

"Love? I never said anything about love." She suddenly felt awkward. She needed to put distance between them. She didn't love him. She cared deeply for him. She didn't love him. She hadn't known him long enough to be in love with him. Brent, she had known for four years, this man it hadn't been that long. She started to back away, "Lancelot I don't know what you are speaking of," she babbled, backing up further, "I care for you yes. We have had some tender moments but I don't think you could call that love."

"Delaney," He was reaching for her and she was moving away. "It's okay, don't be worried. I love you!" At the sound of the proclamation she turned and ran for the stable. Lancelot stared after her numbly.

"Give her time, she's scared." Lancelot turned and found Tristan standing next to him, a quiver half filled with arrows in his hand.

"How long have you been there?"

"Just long enough to hear you tell her you loved her." The other man mumbled.

"I would think she would be happy." Lancelot stated as he kicked at the wet mud.

"Think about it Lancelot, the last person who probably told her they loved her; loved to hurt her."

Lancelot winced, "I never thought of that."

"I know. Come on, help me pick up these arrows."

Delaney watched as Lancelot and Tristan picked up the rest of the arrows and then went inside the weaponry. She waited until they had left the weaponry and made for one of the ways to the tavern. She sighed, then made her way to her room.

She awoke early in the morning, the sun still hadn't risen. She put on her clothes from when she first had met the knights. She walked from her room towards the stable. Quickly she glanced up at the wall, one of the other men besides the knights was on watch. She breathed a sigh of relief. Knowing that Tristan would be in bed as well as the others. She hadn't quite figured out what she planned on doing. She was still dumbstruck that Lancelot loved her. She really wasn't worthy. Maybe, if she did this, she would be. She would face Morgan. Let her know that the child she mourned was alive. Maybe she could stop this madness.


	16. Stupid is as Stupid Does

Lancelot was bent over a mug of ale and nibbling at some bread when Gawain found him. "Lancelot," the other man addressed him guardedly. Lancelot turned and looked up at him.

"What?" He asked gruffly.

"When last did you see Laney?" Gawain asked softly.

"I saw her yesterday on the archery field. Why do you ask?" Lancelot asked with a raised eyebrow.

Gawain sighed, fighting the urge to look down at his feet. "Achilles is gone."

"She could just be out riding." He stated matter of factly; his gut tightening.

"I woke the guard who had taken the watch this morning, he said he saw someone ride Achilles into the forest before sunrise." Gawain explained.

"Why didn't he stop her?" Lancelot asked irritably.

"He thought that someone was going patrolling due to the fact that the Scots are 3 days away."

"They're what?" Lancelot's voice rang out against the stone walls.

"I didn't know either." Gawain answered, keeping his voice low trying to deflect the attention Lancelot's outburst may have caused. " Merlin is here speaking with Arthur right now. Apparently the guard assumed that one of us already knew."

"Damn!" Lancelot cursed under his breath as he walked from the tavern and toward his chambers. Gawain hard on his heels, "I'll get the others."

Lancelot held up his hand, "Don't bother. I'll get her. I got her into this bloody mess I'll get her the hell out of it! Damn woman!"

He had disappeared into his quarters when Tristan opened his door. Gawain shrugged, "Delaney's gone."

Tristan gave a nod and closed his door behind him. He put a reassuring hand upon Gawain's shoulder, "I'll keep a watch on them. Don't worry the others. Tell Arthur I'm scouting ahead because we heard that the Scot's were close." He would stay a step ahead of Lancelot and close in on Delaney. Making sure that both of them survived their own stupidity.

Gawain stared after the scout, "How does he do that?" He whispered to himself, "I didn't even tell him about the bloody Scots!" The man had the ears of a mouse.

Delaney slid off Achilles and looked about. What the hell was she thinking? She didn't know how to scout. Heck she barely even knew how to ride. When she woke up this morning all she could think of was that she wanted to prove her worth. She rubbed Achilles' nose, "I'm sorry, boy. My stupidity I fear has gotten us lost." She settled by the tree, picking some berries as she looked around. Achilles casually munched on the berry bush next to him. Everywhere she turned looked the same. A shiver coursed through her, she heard something, almost like a branch crackling but not as loud. She squatted down, peering through the bushes. And just as she caught Achilles movement from the corner of her eye, a hand had wrapped itself around her mouth and another arm jerked her up from the ground. She kicked with her feet at the man's knee as well as elbowed him in the ribs. Achilles was giving his attacker as much problems. Rearing up and stomping down. Just one well placed kick and the man was on the ground out cold. Delaney twisted, and got a good jab into the man's ribs. He let go of her and she kicked at his knee. He went down with a wail. She then barreled onto Achilles. "Come on boy," she huffed. He started at a full run; before she had a chance to get her leg over him. Next thing she knew she was sitting in the mud, a few feet from where she had started. "Damn it! Achilles!" The horse was gone. She turned around and stared at the two men. Their long hair was in braids, and they wore a combination of skins that reminded her much of the pictures she had seen of the early Native Americans. She had nothing to tie them up with. The one man wasn't going anywhere on the busted knee, but she didn't know how long the other one would be out. She felt for his pulse and was glad to find one. However, he could still have a severe head wound. She felt over his head, nothing seemed to be caved in. The man with the hurt knee sat back regarding her. She moved over and scooped up a dagger which had fallen out of his reach. "Do you have anymore of these?" She asked holding up the blade. He looked at her blankly. She didn't even know if he understood her or not. How many wars had started due to language barriers she wondered. Now wasn't the time for such in-depth thoughts.

Lancelot saw Achilles go tearing through the forest, just barely missing him. He stayed still; listening. He then looked up and grinned, "You might as well come down Tristan, I know you're up there."

The scout looked down, putting the arrow that had been notched in his bow away and slinging the bow across his back, "Only you would know."

"Yes, well, it would be stupid of me to go alone and get Delaney; knowing how close the Scots are."

"You did anyway."

"No, I knew you'd follow me." Lancelot got down from his horse, "What do you make of it."

"I think our lady friend has gotten herself into trouble."

"I think you're right." Lancelot muttered. They cautiously made their way further into the forest.

Delaney braced herself against the huge base of the mighty oak tree and watched the man watching her. He hadn't made any effort to run, or come at her. He just sat there. The other man was still out, and felt feverish to her touch. She took handfuls of water from the stream and used it to try too cool him. The whole time talking soothingly to him. She knew others would be here soon, either someone from the Fort or more Scots. All she had was time. And now she knew why Tristan said she wouldn't do in battle. One on one she might be able to hold her own. If Achilles hadn't knocked out the other man; she would have been captured and returned to their encampment. The dagger stayed by her side; it was too big to put in the waistband of her jeans, so she kept it in her hand or sitting next to her. Probably still not the smartest thing to do but she had no other choice. She kept watch over both the men, the one still very much in pain and watching her every move. With a sigh she shrugged off her button down shirt, the tank top still covering what it could being that it was soaking wet. She wrapped her other shirt around the man's leg in an effort to keep the knee braced; mindful of how close she was to him. He didn't make a move for her, and for that she was most grateful. She slowly backed towards the dagger and the tree stump and found herself being roughly grabbed into a chest. "Are you okay?" Lancelot whispered tersely into her ear. She nodded. He motioned to Tristan, "You have those two taken care of?" At the scouts nod Lancelot turned, pulling Delaney with him.

Tristan smirked to himself as he tied the man's hands together then boosted him upon Achilles. He then flopped the unconscious man over the other's lap. He made sure the tied hands were able to grasp Achilles mane, then he too got up on his mount. With a click of his tongue, the horses rode side by side back towards the fort.

Lancelot grasped the horses reigns tightly in one hand as he tugged Delaney through the trees until they were in a semi enclosed area. He tied his horse to one of the trees and then turned on her, "What fool thing were you thinking!"

Delaney felt herself shrink back, "I wasn't." She stammered out.

"Do you have ANY idea what could have happened?" He brushed a hand through his hair, "Never mind of course you do." He snapped.

Delaney watched him silently. He was pacing back in forth with in the copse of trees, running his hand through his wet curling hair. He kept opening and closing his mouth, looking at her, shaking his head, and then pacing some more. "You're right." She managed.

"Excuse me?" He softened his tone, staring at her, "Right about what?"

"I wouldn't be much good in battle." She took a deep breath, "I can do okay one on one, but if it hadn't been for Achilles, I would have been taken. I'm of no use to you." She bent her head down, hating to admit she was wrong.

Lancelot watched her crumbling in front of him. He stepped up to her, holding her tightly, "What do you mean you are of no use to me?"

"If I can't fight what good am I? I am what I detest, a wilting flower. Something delicate that needs to be taken care of. I'm not good enough for you Lancelot." Her voice broke.

"Whoa, Delaney, what nonsense are you going on about?" He cradled her face with in his hands; brushing her cheekbones with his calloused thumbs. "You aren't that kind of woman. You aren't useless and you sure as hell are way too good for me."

"What good am I to you?"

"You can shoot almost as well as Tristan and Bors. Which means you can out shoot me. I'll worry about you to no end, but you have made me feel, Delaney, for the first time in a long time. I have not laughed as much as I did the other night. You had me laughing so hard I was crying; not a dry chuckle but really laughter. You have that affect on everyone. Tristan was running around chasing you like a kid. You make us forget the bad stuff."

"Great so I can make you laugh, and I can shoot decently. But here and now I would do nothing but be something for you to worry yourself over. I'd be a burden. You don't need to go riding into battle worrying about me."

"Delaney, you could be right beside me and I'd worry about you." He had paused in front of her, brushing her wet hair away from her face; tracing her cheekbone with his finger tips. Her eyes were wide and red from crying. Her cheeks sunken. She was biting her lip to keep from crying and his body tightened in response. He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers, whispering how brazen she could be, how stubborn she was; all in his native language.

Delaney buried her hands in his wet hair, drawing his face closer trying to deepen the kiss but he kept talking to her in what she assumed was his native language and all she could do was listen and feel her body craving his touch.

Lancelot had managed to move them against a large oak tree. He pulled back enough to be able to stare into her eyes and ran his fingers through her hair, enjoying how it made her eyes flutter. "Now why did you really run?"

"You said you loved me."

"And that's a bad thing?" He couldn't help the smile that ghosted across his lips.

"What do you consider love?" She couldn't meet his eyes. She took refuge in burying her face in his chest.

"Total acceptance of another and both their strengths and weaknesses."

"I can't promise you much, Lancelot."

"Did I ask anything of you in return?" He ran his thumb against her chin.

"No." She muttered.

He bent down and gently brushed his mouth to hers. She met his gentle touch with passion in return. She pulled him closer to her by his tunic, her lips feverishly covering his, her tongue seeking entry. She groaned when she felt his face move away from her mouth, moving up towards her cheek, then onto her temple. She kept trying to stand on her tip toes and touch her mouth to his lips and only succeeded in brushing the underside of his chin. She twirled her tongue around the base of his neck between his collar bones and she smiled when she felt him shudder.

Lancelot tangled his hand in Delaney's hair and tilted her head back, while his other hand tightened about her waist. He slowly, deliberately laid butterfly kisses from her jaw line down to her pulse, and then retraced the path with the very tip of his tongue. Her soft sigh made him smile. He then nibbled her earlobe and heard her sharp intake of air. "I love the sounds that you make, Laney." He whispered in a low voice.

Delaney felt the hard bark of the tree against her back and the unyielding knight in front of her. Her body was on fire where ever his hands or lips touched. Lancelot took her hands and held them above her head. She felt panic begin to rise and suddenly he was nibbling and caressing her mouth with his tongue, soothing her while his other hand stroked her side, grazing the side of her breast and coming to rest upon the waist band of her jeans. She began to shake. The only thing holding her up was Lancelot's grip upon her wrists above her head and the pressure of Lancelot's body against hers.

Lancelot felt her shivering violently. He let go of her wrists and clasped her hands, "I'm not going to hurt you." He reassured her as he ran his hands up and down her arms.

She smiled weakly at his worried face, "I'm nervous." She ended with a small chuckle.

"Don't be." He stood for a moment, looking into her eyes as he traced her cheekbones, lips, arms and side tenderly with the lightest of touches.

Delaney tried to maintain his soul searching gaze but soon felt as if he was seeing too much. She turned her head and nipped at his jaw.

Lancelot quickly changed their positions, bracing himself against the tree as he pulled her into him. The moment their bodies met they both moaned softly. Her body shaking with need against his. He grabbed her buttocks and pulled her against him, loving the friction their clothing created. He kissed her shoulders and upper arms, pausing to once again nibble at her pulse and then flick it with his tongue. Delaney dug her hands into his hair and pulled his face down to hers, exploring his mouth with a soul rending kiss; leaving them both breathless.

"I–want–," Delaney bowed her head a moment and took a ragged breathe. In the meantime Lancelot gently caressed her bare arms and face. She finally looked up at him through her bangs, "I want to make love to you." She said in a rush.

Lancelot braced himself. He knew she wanted breathing room so he tried not to push; just give her time to tell him what was on her mind. The way her body was trembling against his now; finally calming from the violent tremors of before. When she finally looked at him shyly through her bangs it caused something low to tighten. He wasn't going to ask her to repeat herself. He knew what she had said. He also knew what she had meant, even if she didn't say the words. He remembered the heated discussion between sex and love. His heart beat heavily against his chest. He should protest. He should be a gentleman for once and tell her not here because it was cold and wet. He should be making love to her for the first time in his bed.

Delaney felt his body pause; as if gathering his wits and be logical. Delaney tugged at the fastenings of his over tunic as she kissed him passionately; almost in desperation to change his mind.

Lancelot lay his head back against the tree, gasping for air as she nibbled at his throat; still undoing the leather lacings. "You're taking to bloody long," he growled at her. As he gently nudged her away he quickly divested himself of his over tunic and boots. He watched as Delaney shrugged out of her own shoes and was fumbling with the buttons of her jeans.


	17. ChChChanges

Delaney rested her forehead against Lancelot's; gasping for air. The rain had stopped and the wetness upon her skin was do to exertion. "Oh my," she breathed against him.

Lancelot chuckled, "Once again the monosyllabic answers amaze me. I do remember you repeatedly using that phrase earlier. Along with 'oh my God'". I never knew you were a Christian."

Delaney felt her face warm as she smiled at him, "Just as long as you realize I wasn't calling you a god, Lancelot, it's all good." She braced herself to gently move off of him and gasped. Her body hurt in places she wasn't used to. Lancelot immediately helped lift her onto the ground, pulling her against his chest. "Wasn't it something similar to this that got me sore in the first place?"

Lancelot smiled down at her, gently brushing her lips with his feeling her moan as she fought to deepen the kiss. He pulled back and grinned down at her, "As much as I would love another go around, we need to get back to the Fort before it gets dark."

"I know." She muttered, her eyes closed enjoying the feeling of being held. She felt a breeze against her bare butt and shivered, "I need to get dressed."

"Unfortunately yes." Lancelot muttered, running his fingers through her tangled hair. His hand caressed down her arm and squeezed her hand as she pulled away to gather her clothes. He stood watching; arms crossed against his chest. He couldn't help the wolfish smile that seemed permanently affixed to his face. She turned and looked at him; naked from the waist down.

"Do you mind turning your back or something while I get dressed?" She felt her face warm.

Lancelot chuckled as he pushed away from the tree and sauntered towards her. "After what we just did and now you are being modest?"

"That's different." Delaney mumbled as she turned her back to him.

Lancelot had come up behind her and nuzzled her neck, "You need never be embarrassed of your nakedness around me, Delaney. Never." He grabbed her still wet jeans from her hands and held them out for her to step into, "Here, I'll even help you get dressed."

Delaney waited a moment and with a defeated shrug stepped into the jeans. They were stiff and damp and she felt like she was peeling herself into them instead of the other way around. Lancelot was laughing as she shimmied into them. She turned and looked at him trying for exasperation and yet, she couldn't help but smile. "I can't wait to watch you get your leather trousers on, Lancelot."

He shook his head as he gently slid his pants on. "Mine have been made somewhat water resistant; they're only damp."

Delaney rolled her eyes as she finished pulling on her wet socks and boots. Lancelot was soon next to her with his horse, "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

"I'll let you mount first, then I'll be right behind you." He wagged his eyebrows suggestively.

Delaney sighed, "Should I be worried?"

"Very much so. It means I have free access to your delectable body."

"Maybe I should walk then."

"I've never made love on a horse." He commented as he helped her on.

Delaney looked down at him, "And as far as I'm concerned, it's going to stay that way."

Lancelot swung up behind her, "Still sore are we?"

"What do you think?" She asked with a raised eyebrow as they started a gentle trot towards what she assumed was the fort.

"I could kiss it and make it feel better." He answered innocently. Smiling when he saw the red flush to her face.

The image that provoked in Delaney's mind sent her hormones swirling in anticipation. She knew how talented his hands were and how agile his tongue was when giving kisses but oral sex? Oh Lordy! She mentally fanned herself.

Delaney had dozed off; the gentle sway of the horse effectively rocking her to sleep. She felt the gentle motion suddenly stop and Lancelot's arm about her tighten. She came to with a jolt. She turned about to say something to Lancelot and found him staring ahead at a horse that had been tied to a tree. Delaney recognized the horse, "My God, that's Tristan's!" She gasped. "Where's Achilles?"

Lancelot was already to the horse and untying it. "I don't know. There aren't any tracks to suggest he got away." Delaney looked around; listening. Hoping that Tristan was just hiding in the bushes. She knew better, if he had been scouting his horse would have been hidden not in plain sight.

Delaney came upon Lancelot. She gently rubbed his back, not saying a word. Noting the clenched fists balanced atop Tristan's saddle. "We must go after him."

"Ride my horse to the fort, he knows the way. I'll take Tristan's and search them out."

"Lancelot, this is not up for debate. You said you would worry about me, and even though we are close to the fort how do you know they aren't already laying in wait?"

"I don't wish to put you in harms way."

Delaney hugged him from behind, "I appreciate that. But honestly, you have the best chance of a diversion when it comes to me. After all the Scots are lead by who was once my mother."

He regarded her a moment, "You plan on trading yourself for Tristan, don't you?"

"Not exactly. I plan on having them THINK that."

"Why are you doing this?"

"So you are taking me?"

"Something tells me if I don't you will find a way to follow me or get yourself caught trying."

She smiled, "I'm doing this because Tristan is the closest thing I've ever had to a brother. I can talk to him and know he isn't after a tumble or anything else."

"I wouldn't be so sure." Lancelot muttered.

Delaney raised an eyebrow as she regarded him, "Do you know something I don't?"

"Yes, your affect on men."

"What? Just because I do funny things to you doesn't mean that I have that affect on everyone."

"I was just saying, I know Tristan regards you fondly. Just don't think that he probably hasn't thought of tupping you." He commented as he lifted her onto the horse.

Once he sat astride his own horse Delaney turned and stared at him, "Care to expound on how Tristan has fantasized about me?"

"He would never act on it, Delaney. He knows our feelings. Hell he knew my feelings for you before I did. He won't try anything because it would go against his code."

Delaney nodded her head and turned her attention forward trotting alongside Lancelot. He grabbed one of the reigns and pulled the horse closer, leaned down and grabbed her lips with his. He parted, looked into her eyes and whispered, "Forgive me." Delaney's eyebrows rose in question and with a grimace he smacked the flank of his horse as hard as he could, sending it off into a run. He knew it would go straight for the fort. He gently glided Tristan's horse in a slow circle and back tracked; looking for where they had taken Tristan.

Delaney couldn't get the horse to slow down. Unlike Achilles, it didn't listen to the subtle pressure of the thighs or a tug on it's mane. "Bastard!" she called into the air. Knowing he was far enough away by now to not hear her. Damn it! She thought to herself. There would be no way she could track and find out where either of them were now. With a sigh of defeat she hunched her shoulders and let the horse lead the way; presumably back to the fort.

She rode up to the Fort, one of the guards had already opened the smaller door within the larger doors for her. Ganis smiled brightly at her, "They will be thrilled you are back, M'Lady." He practically gushed as he took the horses reigns. He paused realizing whose horse it was, "What happened?"

" Long story. Just see to him please." Delaney brushed by him, walking to the tavern. It was evening, surely the knights would be there.

No one was there, save Vanora. She looked up at the bedraggled new comer and gasped. "Delaney? Lass, sit down let me get you some stew."

Delaney found herself hustled onto a bench, a tankard of wine set in front of her and then left alone all within seconds. Moments went by and she had a steaming bread bowl of stew sitting in front of her. "Where is everyone?"

"Looking for you, Lass. Lancelot and Tristan got a head start on them all. Where are they anyway?"

Delaney swallowed a mouthful of food and was about to reply when Guinevere strode in. She paused as she settled eyes on Delaney. "I'm glad you're safe." She remarked with affection. Then taking a deep breath and straightening both her shoulders and her head stood regally, "Arthur requests your presence immediately."

"Why me?" Delaney asked, placing the bite of food back into the bowl.

"That is for Arthur to say." She quickly grabbed Delaney's arm and walked with her, "You shouldn't have run off, Delaney."

"I didn't exactly run off, I just needed time to think."

"Merlin came yesterday, and told Arthur of the Scots. Arthur was not pleased to find out you had run into them."

"How does he know about that?"

"We didn't know for sure. But that is why you rode off wasn't it? To try and prevent the possibility of a battle? Maybe talk to your "mother"?"

"Maybe." Delaney answered gruffly.

Guinevere looked sternly at her, "You don't understand, Delaney. If you had been captured, Arthur would have no choice but to send all of his knights after you. You could have been the cause of a war."

Delaney stared at her dumbfounded. "I didn't think of that," she stated softly.

Guinevere softened her gaze and smiled, "I know, this is all very hard for you. Lancelot and his emotions, and our strange ways. Plus finding out it's your mother who is leading the army. I can't imagine how mixed up I would feel."

"You probably never feel confused, Guinevere." Delaney muttered, as they made their way to what Delaney assumed would be the round table room.

"Oh, Laney. When I first met Lancelot and Arthur... I was more confused than you could imagine. Did you know that Lancelot saved me that day on Bandon hill? That scar he bears above his heart is from saving my life. I had to decide if I loved him because I was in love with him or if I loved him because he was willing to sacrifice himself for me. I love Arthur, and found Lancelot to be my silent guardian; kind of like Tristan and yourself. But it took time for me to get over that. Arthur called it a hero complex. And Arthur," she shook her head, a small smile upon her thin lips, "He never forgave himself for not being there for me. If Lancelot would have died; Arthur would have blamed himself. His best knight doing his job."

"I didn't know." Was all Delaney could say.

"I know you didn't. But, Arthur is even more protective of Lancelot now. Just be warned. He cares deeply for him and what he says to you is only because he was scared for his well being." With that Guinevere ushered Delaney into the hall and then took her leave.

Delaney took a deep breath and the went into the room. She found herself facing Arthur, "What do you have to say for yourself?" He bellowed, bracing himself upon the table.

"Nothing." Delaney replied, her chin up.

"Nothing?" Arthur stood, taking a deep breath. "Nothing." He shook his head, "You leave the protection of the fort and almost get captured by the enemy yet you have nothing to say."

"I did not get captured by the enemy however, isn't that what counts?"

"It is because of you that two of my knights went gallivanting off to bring you back. With the rest following. What will you do if they get captured?"

"I did not think of that." Delaney answered quietly. "And don't blame me for your knights riding off. It was their choice."

"Yes, their choice to feel obligated to protect you against yourself even." He studied her, seeing the slight hunching of her shoulders. He was scaring her. Good. He thought to himself and winced. Softly he spoke, "So I ask you again, what have you to say for yourself?"

"I'm sorry?" Her voice rose as did her eyebrows.

"That's a start." Arthur then looked at her, "I'm glad you are alright. Luckily for you the possibility exists for you to remedy your fault. Merlin has come to us saying that the Lady Morgan wishes and audience with you and him."

"Pardon?"

"Morgan wants to meet you. Merlin is going as an observer."

"If it means there won't be blood shed, I'll go. It's the least I could do." She answered standing with her arms folded.

"I hoped you would see it that way, Merlin will escort you."

"When do I leave?"

"First light."

Delaney nodded, curtsied and then turned and left hurriedly.

Merlin crept out of the shadows regarding Arthur. "This could be a sham Arthur."

Arthur turned to the older man, "I know. But what more can I do? We'll know soon enough if it is."

Just then a knock sounded upon the door and Ganis ushered in the dishelved knights. Gawain plunked down into his chair sighing, "We couldn't find her anywhere. There are some horse tracks leading to the fort and a set leading away. Then further beyond that were some left by a horse tied to a tree."

"Delaney rode in on Lancelot's horse." Arthur stated quietly watching the men.

"She's here?" Galahad asked.

"Yes, safe and sound. She didn't say anything about Lancelot or Tristan however."

"What happened to Tristan and Lancelot?" bors stood.

Arthur raised his hand, "I didn't let her explain and I didn't ask." He didn't meet his men's eyes. "We have a meeting with Morgan of the Scots tomorrow. Maybe Lancelot and Tristan are lost in the forest."

Bors snorted at this. Gawain regarded Arthur, "You don't believe that."

Arthur shrugged. "We leave at first light. Merlin and Delaney will meet with Morgan and we shall await them."

Dagonet watched Arthur silently. The rest of the knights filtered out and Dagonet continued to stare at his commander. "You cannot blame her for this."

"I shouldn't Dagonet, I know. But part of me–"

"Lancelot is not your responsibility."

Arthur regarded him with sad eyes, "He saved my wife."

"Then save his love." Dagonet stated quietly then he to left, leaving Arthur staring into the dimness.


	18. Something Wicked

Delaney and Merlin made their way along the trail towards the trees and over the hill of the Fort. Once on the other side of the hill, their enemy was encamped. "Did you have any visions regarding this?" Delaney mumbled, as she gently pushed a branch out of her way.

"No. But I sense something is wrong."

"As do I, and I don't have the sight. Apparently that gift wasn't passed down." She muttered waspishly.

Suddenly their trail was blocked by two men. Identically dressed to the others that Delaney had seen the day before. Merlin spoke to them. Soon both Delaney and Merlin were flanked by the guards and escorted to a small fire. A woman with blonde hair hanging free to her waist looked up. She then rose, clad in the same animal skins as the men. After a few crisp commands everyone had left save Merlin and Delaney. She then motioned for the two of them to take a seat.

Delaney watched the woman, her gut tightening. Something wasn't right. She sat rigid, watching, waiting. The woman's gaze rolled over her then immediately the attention went to Merlin. "So this is our daughter." She stated, her voice husky and low.

"Yes." Was all Merlin said, drawing shapes in the ash from the fire.

The woman rose and stood in front of Delaney, "I am Morgan le Fey. I am the leader of these people."

"So I have been told." Delaney murmured, careful to keep her voice as soft and neutral as possible.

Morgan smiled vilely. She turned and motioned to one of her men who in turn motioned towards yet another man. From a tent two men shoved Lancelot and Tristan to stand at the woman's side. She reached up and caressed Lancelot's cheek, "Which one is your lover, daughter? Which one will you save?"

Delaney's jaw clenched and her eyes grew wide as she stared at the blonde haired vixen. She looked to Merlin who only continued to stare into the fire, drawing with his walking stick in the dirt next to the fire.

Morgan had moved next to Tristan, playing with one of his long braids; twisting it between her fingers. "I haven't decided which one I want to be my play toy. The one is so pretty, but this one," she smirked, "He is a bit of an animal. I want to break him." She turned glacier eyes to Delaney, "I want to break them both. Bend them, make them mine. I want them to know every breath is because I give it to them."

Delaney felt her stomach roll. She swallowed the bile growing in her throat. This was her fault. She had run away and this was the payment. She looked from one to the other of the men then swallowed and spoke, "What if I give you my life for theirs?"

Morgan mocked her, "You think your life is worth anything to me?" She grabbed Delaney by the shoulders and jerked her up, "I can bargain with these men, you mean nothing, child. Nothing!" She shook Delaney like nothing more than a rag doll.

Delaney felt her teeth rattle and tried to keep focused. Morgan was giving her one heck of a headache. Suddenly she felt herself upon the ground. Looking up into the ice of Morgan's eyes. There was suddenly a dagger at her throat, "I saw your death, when you were a babe. If it has to be by my hand so be it. I'm tired. What I didn't tell Merlin was that I saw your death and then mine. I'm tired, daughter. I want to die. I have too much blood on my hands. I want to go to the beyond. But first you must die, so that it will be my time."

Delaney was gasping for air staring up at the woman who's eyes were a bit too wide. Her smile a bit too bright. She had seen the look before; on Brent's face.

"You do not belong here. Not now, not anymore." Morgan whispered as she reached her hand out and gently cupped Delaney's cheek. She then kissed it gently. Delaney tried to not pull away as the dagger was still at her throat. She felt all eyes upon the two of them. Morgan pressed the dagger into Delaney's neck, just enough to draw a droplet of blood. As she did, she waved a hand toward Merlin. Speaking softly yet clearly, "I banish you, old man to be lost in time in the black void between dimensions, I banish you!" Morgan ended with a low growl. Delaney went to move as Merlin suddenly looked, against the horizon and then disappeared.

"And you my daughter," the voice hissed fire, "You do not belong to me. You do not belong to the now. I think I can inflict more pain; not by your death but by something worse." Morgan's smile grew and Delaney gulped, feeling the blood dripping down her neck. "I banish you back to whence you came!" Delaney had a moment to stare at her in utter shock, as an arrow zinged over her shoulder and struck Morgan in the heart. Then her world went black as the Scots suddenly started running from all directions.

Tristan and Lancelot stood, staring at the spot where Delaney moments before had stood. The men guarding them were more concerned with the woman who had just been shot. Arthur had the knights waiting atop the hill. For what, he did not say. The moment Merlin disappeared he had Bors lose an arrow and take out Morgan. Then Arthur, Bors and the rest of the knights came lumbering down the hill at full gallop. Arthur quickly dismounted and untied Lancelot and Tristan. The battle was over within moments. The Scots surrendering once their leader was gone.

Lancelot went to the spot where moments before Delaney had been. The dagger had dropped onto the ground. He picked it up reverently, cradling it in his hands. Her blood still stained the tip of its edge. He knees buckled and he landed in a sitting position upon the log where moments before Delaney had been seated. He slouched, holding the dagger, staring at its blade.

Tristan found Lancelot sitting upon the log where Delaney had sat. He investigated the fire and ashes. Merlin had traced unique shapes into the embers. He didn't know what to say to his friend so he just grasped his shoulder and walked on.

Lancelot sat with his head bent, tears streaming down his face. He couldn't fix this pain. The last thing he remembered of Delaney was how her lips felt against his in the brief kiss they had shared before he betrayed her.

Merlin stood next to Arthur, both staring at the curly haired knight sitting atop the log; shoulders slouched in defeat. "I did what you asked of me old man," Arthur whispered hoarsely. "I betrayed my best friend."

"It is best Arthur."

The commander regarded the the man cooly, "So you say."

"It is the way it had to be."

"Explain that to Lancelot."

"They will meet again."

Arthur turned and looked at the strange man, "When?"

"In Delaney's time."

"But what will happen to him until then?"

"He will heal. This is the price Arthur, I saved him from Death's door once. You promised me that you would grant me anything for that. This is what I am requesting."

"What good does it do Merlin?"

"Everything is right again. My mistake from so long ago is righted."

"Yet my friend suffers for that." Arthur turned on his heel and walked away.

Lancelot had the dagger resting in his lap, his hands knotted in his hair as his elbows balanced upon his knees. His body shook in silent sobs. He felt someone sit beside him and glanced over to find Merlin seated next to him. He lifted his head and grabbed the man's arm, "Send me to her time. Please Merlin."

"I cannot, Lancelot. The time line has been muddled with enough. I can however promise that you will meet her again. Your soul will know hers."

"When?"

"In her time."

"But it won't be me."

"It will be. I can leave the memories of her in your head, to be revealed when the two of you meet."

"But what if we never meet?"

"Have faith Lancelot, the soul knows its mate."

"But what now?"

"Live your life as best you can." He muttered and then rose, going to Tristan by the fire.

"You warded yourself." The scout stated bluntly.

"Yes."

"You knew what would happen.

"Yes."

"So now what?"

"All of you will meet in her time. She needs protection there more than this time. You all are linked in a dance of life. To make sure you know of each other, I will bind the memories to your souls, so that you know each other when you meet. Through all of your souls' reincarnations these memories will stay until she comes into your lives. Then and only then will you remember what has transpired."


	19. This Way Comes

Delaney felt someone pulling her. She looked up. Her car door had been ripped from its hinges and now someone had unbuckled her seatbelt and was pulling her from her car. Her head throbbed. "Leave me alone."

"Look lady, it's snowing out here and you'll freeze to death. You have a concussion. So shut up and let me help you." She turned and looked at the man, he had brown and gray hair, if the moonlight wasn't playing tricks, and brown eyes. His face, she knew his face. "Tristan?" She gasped.

He pulled back, looking at her. Another image super imposed itself. An image of someone flogging her, at a stone keep. Then just as quickly the image was replaced by him (it had to be him, because he was seeing through his eyes) running down an alleyway in the rain and then having her jump upon him and laughing. He blinked his eyes and looked down at the woman, the cut above the eye, hair haphazardly in disarray about her face and stuck with blood. It had been her. He shook his head, trying to organize his thoughts. He was going crazy.

Thus concludes Part 1 of "Time of the Heart" stayed tuned for Part 2

C.J. Davis


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